Freakshow
by GreatBigFreak
Summary: Sort of AU. Monsters and strangeness abound. A How would the world react if werewolves were real? premise. Rated for some gore near the end & language. Undertaker, Kane, Trish Stratus, Jacqueline Moore, Paul Bearer all featured. Set some time ago.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Freakshow

Or: Mary Sue had a little lamb... I ate them with mint jelly (some fava beans and a nice Chianti). And everywhere that I went... they went... in my belly.

Author's notes, disclaimers, summary and potpourri: I... I think I've gone and done it... I think I've got another viable fan fic plot that won't let Mary Sue within a hundred miles of it. coughmarysueisthelazywriter'sfictioncough Geez, I better get an antihistamine into me...

Summary: This one's a werewolf story... What can I say? I love 'em. The Wolfman always kicked Dracula's ass. This will be sort of alternate universe... Think the strangeness of the Buffy verse and Anita Blake Vampire Chronicles crossed with WWE characters. Monsters, psychics, and magick, oh my! The story will be allowed to have its debauching way with kayfabe (seductive minx she is). For example: Mark and Glenn are blood relatives in this, while say, Jacqueline was never involved with the company. My fic, I'll do what I want. I know the pairings are the same as my last fic... I can't help it. They all seem to get along so well in my head. This story is more an examination of dealing with extraordinary circumstances and doesn't have the violence of my last one. Sorry if that's what you were looking for.

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing, I make nothing. My attempt at fiction is a not for profit undertaking. My kitchen would make Old Mother Hubbard weep. My liquor supply would make her weep for joy... But you have to roe-sham-bo me for that. I get first kick, lemme go get my work boots. Also, the part of the story set in New Orleans was written in long hand well before Hurricane Katrina. Please don't get on my case for using it. I sent along half a paycheque for disaster relief, and I certainly don't mean to offend.

Feedback: Praise is expected, flames will be laughed at, and constructive criticism gets me wet. Okay... Figuratively gets me wet... But all feedback does encourage me to keep writing fiction I've found, so it is welcome.

Notation: All chapter titles are taken from Gordon Lightfoot songs... This works out well because I finished this on the man's 67th birthday... Creepy no? Anyway, who does angst and wild things better then Gordie? Who betta then Gordie? Oh, fair warning: I'm Canadian. I put the letter u in words that don't seem to need it. Colour, labour, and neighbour are examples of this. Don't bother telling me about it. I already know. The Canadian Press does it, so I feel justified. Most indentation used will be mental conversation. I will also put any sources I've used (read: stolen from) at the end of the fic. Pay attention, there will be a quiz on it later.

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Chapter 1 Carefree Highway

"Now the thing I call living,

Is just being satisfied,

With knowing I got no one left to blame."

"Mark! Did you eat my girlfriend?!"

Mark cracked an eyelid. How Glenn had gotten into his hotel room he wasn't sure, but he would be punished for it. Later. When he felt like waking up. "Lemme alone. I'm tired." He muttered and rolled further into the pillow, ignoring his seething brother.

"Mark! Get your furry, dead ass out of bed!" Mark refused to move, and screwed his eyes as tightly shut as possible. Glenn tore off the covers and hauled Mark's limp weight onto the floor. "Get up and tell me where my girlfriend is!" Mark landed hard and cursed.

"Fuck! Ow! Shit!"

"Now that I have your attention, you mind enlightening me?"

"Fuck off Glenn! I don't know where that skank, groupie, ring-rat you call a girlfriend slithered into bed last night, but it wasn't here and it certainly wasn't with me. Besides, I was otherwise occupied last night, and your sloppy seconds from that damn dirty ape was not on my agenda!"

"Go to hell." Glenn punched Mark hard in the jaw. That was the last straw for Mark. He shot up from the floor and wrapped his hands around Glenn's neck. He used his superior strength to choke Glenn down to the spot he'd occupied on the floor.

Mark's rage built up in him and his vision washed out to black and white, but every detail was clear and sharp. "M-Mar-Mark... You're choking me..." Glenn rasped.

"You woke me up! Deal with the consequences!"

"Mark... You're shifting." He wheezed, and then brought a hand up to Mark's stomach. The realization that he was loosing it and the burning sensation on his stomach got Mark to let go. He peeled back and sat on the bed. He was always hyped up on the days around the full moon as well as the actual event. The fur and claws had started to emerge. Mark breathed deep. Glenn could always work him up like this. Why was he so concerned about Amy anyways? The only reason she had a job was because she could do a shoddy moonsault and let her thong hang out... That and she was a gutterslut. Mark just hadn't spoken out on the topic because he'd had his own questionable poontang in the past.

The main one being the bitch that had turned him werewolf, thinking she could control him. She'd barely been a beta wolf. Mark quickly learned he was a natural alpha. But he'd always been that way, really. Alphas not only had the strength, but the wisdom and control to lead. The thought sobered Mark somewhat. He didn't want to hurt, let alone kill his brother, despite Glenn tempting him sorely from time to time. He sighed deeply and the claws and fur retracted into his body. His colour vision returned, and the situation diffused.

Glenn was leaning against the wall, sucking breath into his lungs desperately. They glared at each other awhile. "You really think that about her?" He finally asked.

"Yes Glenn. I'm sorry, but it's just the way it is."

"Do you know something I don't?"

"I keep smelling Matt and Jeff's scent on her if you must know... Not just the regular exchange of scent... If you catch my meaning."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you would have chosen not to believe me. You don't want to believe me now."

"Fuck you, Mark."

"Would you quit with that?" Mark snapped.

"Quit with what?'

"Provoking me like this; and your infantile distrust of me. It's only gotten worse in the last three years."

"Three years ago you weren't a werewolf."

"And three years ago you couldn't speak a complete sentence. We needed each other then. We still do. I do appreciate you being around you know. Your power helps me fend off that which used to try and claim or attack me." This was true. Mark's control over the dark arts had suffered greatly after he'd been turned; especially the first few months when his mind had left most of its humanity behind and become wolf. No more tossing around lightening bolts. No more brainwashing servants at a whim. Here and there a connection reestablished itself and he could pull off something big. Usually only in defense of wayward spirits who thought a werewolf's body might be fun to try on for the weekend. Glenn however, still had all of skills, including telepathy and pyrokinesis at his disposal.

Being turned werewolf didn't mean that Mark lost power by any means. Now it just meant that it was converted to do different things. Despite the brothers' on again off again relationship, Mark, with the new gift of healing, set out restoring Glenn's scars to skin. Glenn respected Mark because Mark did it no matter how he felt about Glenn at the moment. The vocal chords had been the first, and the two of them spent much time talking when there wasn't much else to do but for Glenn to lie there and heal.

Mark had nearly died laughing when he heard Glenn singing in the shower for the first time, but it had warmed his heart as well... And at least it was 'Paint it Black' as opposed to something like 'I Feel Pretty.'

"I should go find Amy... And crush her skull under a big rock." Glenn said and started to get up. Mark reached out and caught Glenn's wrist. Glenn eyed him carefully.

"Stay, Glenn. Give me a minute and we'll go get breakfast."

"You're tired. You had the full moon last night."

"I've been tired before. It's nothing new." Mark found clean clothes, brushed his hair and teeth, collected his wallet, and put on his boots while Glenn waited by the unmade bed. To Mark he looked a bit like a kicked puppy at the moment. Mark laid a friendly hand on his shoulder as they left the room and set out on foot to find breakfast. Mark had given up on having security around him when he realized he could lift a garbage truck and move faster then people could see.

Glenn knew that strength and speed extended to him as well, no matter the circumstance. Glenn preferred it to actual security. It meant he didn't have to deal with anybody else. He knew Mark, and dealing with him could be awkward enough.

Mark had gone from a highly cerebral entity to a completely Earth based one; from a man that hated just about everything to someone who drank in life and the natural world. If his hotel rooms had balconies, he'd sleep out there. No matter the weather, and quite often naked. The change in personality from excessive Lord of Darkness to good old country boy practical werewolf had been nothing short of remarkable. He still retained his keyed up nature, but he had a lot more forethought, even prudence now. He also had had a lot of apologizing to do to former friends that he'd alienated. To his credit, Mark had done so with many of them.

Mark had actually become quite social. He liked the company of most anyone with a higher then room temperature I.Q. Before he'd only tolerate the Ministry, and only ever really confided in Paul. Now that pack instinct ran strong in him, and he was only as strong as the weakest person he knew, and how well that person was protected. Quite often Glenn was pretty sure that Mark considered Glenn to be that person. Not without justification mind you. Glenn still had a lot of issues to work out, but he'd come a long way.

Deep, deep, deep down, Glenn would admit he was glad for Mark's newfound willingness to help him. He would never be able to express his gratitude at having his voice restored to him, not to mention his face. Mark had also become openly affectionate of him when they were getting along, and touched him often. Another side effect of the wolf... A pat on the shoulder or back here, or a tussle of hair there... After so many years in physical isolation it was taking some getting used to for Glenn.

They popped into a small bistro and sat down. Their presence was noticed, but not questioned by anybody. The waitress was exceedingly polite, but not overly friendly.

"So, how did you get into my room?" Mark asked after coffee was served.

"I said that you were my brother, and that I had to get you insulin."

"Good one." Mark took a sip of coffee.

"Yeah, I thought so..." Glenn stirred the cream from its cloud like appearance into a solid caramel colour in his cup, no sugar. "What should I do about Amy?"

"Drop her like a hot coal." Mark said strongly.

"Shit, tell me how you really feel."

"I wanted to give you, and her I guess a shot. Look, I'm sorry if that means anything to you."

"It does, believe it or not." Glenn sipped at his own coffee cup. "Well, I guess I'm single again." He said, setting his mug back on the table.

"It's not such a bad way to be. By the way, you should probably inform her."

"I will. Maybe I'll just power bomb it into her."

"Just make sure to get it on national television. Vince would cream his jeans for that." Mark said with a grin. Glenn returned it.

"Well the girl can take a bump." There was a period of silence between them, and they looked out the window at the world going by. "I knew she was screwing around." Glenn finally offered. "I just thought that if no one else acknowledged it, then I didn't have to either. Maybe I should just take up with some cute fan girl and let her wait on me hand and foot."

"I think mom would resurrect herself and kick your ass for talking like that, you sexist pig." Mark smirked, and Glenn laughed a bit, but was reflective.

"I still miss mom." He said sadly and shyly.

"Me too" Mark replied. "I see guys our age taking their aging mothers out shopping or whatever, and try to fathom what it would be like. It's a stupid thing to do probably."

"You've done far stupider and far stranger things."

"True enough."

They separated on good terms when they got back to the hotel. Mark packed to leave and called his driver. His assistant dropped off his boarding pass and told him she'd meet him in the next city. She was taking a later flight because it was easier for her schedule.

Mark didn't mind traveling alone. It gave him a lot of time to think. He'd always been a deep thinker and a solitary person. He bought a copy of the New York Times and got into the back of the luxury sedan that was hired to take him to the airport. It didn't take long for Mark to notice that they were not headed in the right direction. As a long time traveler, he assumed it was someone trying to make an extra buck as opposed to a malicious purpose.

"Hey, I know where the airport is. I'm not paying you any extra, and you can forget about the tip." He said, putting on his best annoyed expression. The driver said nothing, just laid the accelerator down harder and took a sharp turn to the right. "What the fuck are you doing?!" Mark yelled. The car screeched to a halt. The door opened and someone grabbed Mark's shoulders. He reacted violently, but was met with the shock of multiple electric tasers and a noxious belt of chloroform as a cloth was smothered over his mouth and nose. It took some time to put him out, and Mark could see his bella clava wearing assailants. Covered faces couldn't hide scents. Mark knew every one of them. A final growl and struggle and all was blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine... I just like them a lot.

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Chapter 2 Ribbon of Darkness

Mark awoke nauseated and in an incredible amount of pain. He rolled onto his side and vomited. It was dark and cold where he was. His eyes took a long while to focus. A point of light was above him. The walls were rounded and brick... He was at the bottom of a dry well. He was fevered and disoriented. The top of the well was mostly covered by a concrete slab. The fingernail of sky he could see was overcast.

He slowly sat up and tried to get a bearing on where he was and how he'd gotten there. The car ride returned to him... The sudden attack... Scents he knew quite well. Hunter, Steve, and a few of Hunter's lackeys, quite a few of them.

"Look here boys! Seems we've got an unregistered werewolf trapped down a well." Hunter's face appeared at the opening. "Shame he didn't come forward. Now he's got no rights." Mark squinted up into the light.

"Fuck off Hunter."

"No way dead man. I haven't even begun messing with you yet. You really should have left Glenn like he was. He got really chatty with Waltman after you healed him."

"Shut up. Leave Glenn out of this."

"Don't worry about your precious baby brother. It's you I want."

"Can I ask why?" Mark asked. He was trying to stand up. It wasn't coming along so well, and he landed hard and sucked in a pained breath.

"Because I can, Taker. Don't bother trying to stand up or jump out. We cut the tendons in the back of your knees and mixed up a drug cocktail that would put Hunter S. Thompson to shame. Even you don't heal that fast." Mark groaned and lay out as best as he could in the small space. Hunter was right about registration. Mark hadn't done it. He thought it was degrading and it could very well cost him his job. Werewolves were not welcome in any profession in which blood would be a factor. That meant he was an outlaw lycanthrope. Whatever Hunter did to him was nice and legal. He cursed his pride for thinking he could continue a normal life. He wasn't normal. He wasn't normal before he was a werewolf either, but then he didn't go through a severely mood altering physical transformation every 28 days.

Mark found himself wondering if Hunter would kill him, and what would happen to Glenn if he did. There would be little to no retribution on Mark's behalf. Mark would be seen as just another renegade werewolf that refused to register and hence was probably a criminal or undesirable anyway. They might give Hunter a medal for it.

Time passed and Mark lay in agony. He longed to be able to reach out to Glenn mentally. Nausea and pain hit him in waves. The light of the day started to fade, and Mark actually started to fear. He hadn't been genuinely afraid since the fire and its fallout. His body became numb and cold. He heard the voices of the spirits that he used before he was turned. But he wasn't sure if he was actually hearing them, or just hearing things.

He wasn't going anywhere, so he let himself really listen. It only took a second, and then it was like a gun had gone off in his head. A connection flared up; guided by the spirits he used to know so intimately. The connection was direct to Glenn. "Glenn, help me. Please help. I can't get out of this one."

_"Mark? Is that you? Where are you?"_

"Hunter's got me. I'm at the bottom of some fucking well. The cut the tendons in my legs... I-I'm actually scared Glenn."

_"Mark, can you give me your mind for a moment? I want to see if I can find out where you are by Hunter's proximity to you."_

Mark steeled himself, and then let Glenn take control. He felt Glenn inside his head with him. Glenn reached out and detected Hunter and Waltman. He took his time, slowly sifting through their minds to get the information he needed discreetly. He wanted to keep the element of surprise in his favour. Glenn could also feel Mark's growing fear and it shook him. He was long accustomed to Mark's almost foolhardy ways. Mark had reason to be so damn confident. He'd earned it. Glenn now welled up all the comfort he could, and sent it to Mark.

_"I got it, Mark. You're in Connecticut. I'll be there as fast as I can."_

"Don't leave."

_"I have to. You know that. I'll be there soon. As fast as I can."_

"Help, Glenn. Help." Mark murmured.

"Aww, he wants his brother. That's cute." Hunter was at the mouth of the well again. His face was illuminated in the darkness by the orange glow of firelight. The slab was pulled completely away to reveal several people in ceremonial garb. "We thought it was time to turn that dark arts shit against you." He said down to him.

"Taker's a character, Hunter. I'm not him."

"Ah but you were at one point. This isn't about work, really. This is about dominance... And I am dominant. I used to respect how good you were at controlling and manipulating people. But you're just a fucking beast now." Hunter explained, and Mark found a few of his senses and a bit of his spine.

"Dominant? You? Sure you are. But you're no alpha. You don't know how to maintain leadership over time. I may be a beast, but you're just a psycho. Vince won't stand for this. I make him too much money."

"Vince ordered it, you moron. He doesn't like being lied to. You could have accidentally turned anyone you got into the ring with. That could have potentially cost him way more then you could have ever made for him. He said to put you down like the dog you are."

"Hunter, we should get this done." Another voice said.

"Fine" A spell started, summoning up power. The hairs on the back of Mark's neck and arms stood on end. He was defenseless to stop it. All he could do was wait and see what happened. He was in too much pain to concentrate on what was being said. When they were done, the still warm blood of a freshly sacrificed goat was sent down the well and showered over him.

The reaction was immediate. It came in the form of the worst, most painful shift Mark had ever experienced. It was even worse then his first one. More then once Mark screamed uncontrollably. The drugs, the injuries and now this, were all too much for him. His fur was not the welcome cover he'd come to know it as. It was when his body shrank somewhat and started to become increasingly more wolf then man that Mark started panicking. He tried to fight it, but that only resulted in more pain. His human screams became canine yowls. Despite all his efforts his furry clawed hands became complete paws. It was then he realized what had been done to him. He was trapped. His former freeing transformation had been rearranged into a prison. He tried to shift back, but it was like flicking the switch to a light with a burnt out bulb. Nothing happened.

A blowgun appeared over the top of the well, and a spotlight was shone down over him. A dart shot down and lodged into Mark's flank. Mark's thoughts swam as the drug took hold, and he went down growling.

"Jesus fucking Christ that's a big wolf. He's gotta be better then 200 pounds. I've never seen one this big. He's gotta be bigger then most Shetland ponies. Where did you get him?" The voice was foreign to Mark.

"Some fella said he was wild caught for harassing his cattle. Thought he could make a better profit

selling him to make a trophy for someone else."

"Truly. Goddamn he's big. I almost want him for myself. I'll take him whatever you're asking."

"No haggling? Shit, you really do want him."

"Whatever you want, I know someone who'll pay more for the opportunity to shoot him. Hell, I even know some private zoos that'd want him."

"A zoo could be tricky. He was wild you know."

"Could be worse, it could be my problem. As long as the cheque clears, I don't care."

"An upstanding, moral businessman like you isn't concerned with the well being of one of God's creatures?"

"I could give two shits. It's all about who pays more." Mark didn't even bother to try and open his eyes. He wished for Glenn. He hoped for Glenn. He prayed that his brother would come and open the door to the cage he could feel he was in.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters not mine. I just like them.

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Chapter 3 - Wherefore and Why 

A gunshot woke him next. It wasn't in his immediate vicinity, but it was too damn close to be dismissed. He came violently awake, confused and disoriented. He slammed his skull on the top of the wooden crate he was in. He tried to curse but growled instead. He shook his head, and sat on his haunches as he tried to get his bearings. He was outside, he could smell that... His memory of how he'd gotten there was hazy. He vaguely recalled the well, Hunter, and the spell that was cast. His entire body ached from the drugs in his system. He could feel that tranquillizer-induced cloud over his mind. It was similar to being on some of the major painkillers he'd had to take for injuries in the past, or the after effects of some of the spells he'd worked. Mercifully the tendons in his legs had healed, but they were stiff and sore.

He settled back on his belly. He recalled the conversations between the two strangers. The phrases 'trophy for someone else' and 'it's all about who pays more' returned to him. Mark knew enough about hunting to know about people who would pay large amounts of money to shoot big game for a guaranteed trophy. Fucking disgusting it was. Now apparently, his fate was to have his skin decorate someone's hunting lodge floor. They'd have a hell of a time killing him though. The only thing that could really damage him was silver shot. It didn't mean other bullets didn't hurt or wound him; it would just take a lot of them to kill him. He banked on them not knowing the particulars of what kind of wolf he was. Hunter would have made sure that information wasn't passed along in order to cover his tracks. If he had any sense at all that was.

He heard someone approach the crate. It didn't have windows, merely air holes. Mark could have easily burst from with enough force used, but he played possum for a time. From the sounds and smells of it, there were other animals in crates around him, and it was feeding time. "You should be able to open that one, Vicki." Said a male voice. "He should still be passed out from the travel tranq they gave him." Mark smelled a female outside the crate, and heard the sound of a key in a padlock. He kept his eyes half closed, his head down, feigning sleep.

The door opened and Mark saw a girl that couldn't have been a day over fifteen. She had dark hair in a ponytail. Not the kind of person Mark wanted to threaten physical violence upon. Still, it might be his only chance. In a single motion he was up, past the girl, and out of the crate. They hadn't taken a werewolf's metabolism into that tranq dosage. He was groggy, but still had plenty in him to make a fair attempt at escape.

"Dad!" The girl shouted. Mark snarled, but not at her, rather at the man with the shotgun in his hand. Evidently he was prepared for this sort of thing. Mark was in a chain link yard, complete with a roof that had a camouflaged cover over it as to not be visible from the air. The girl was backing away from him slowly, and that was fine with Mark.

He looked for the closest corner in the fence. He ran for it, using all fours on instinct. He hadn't really used this form before, not knowing what to do with it. Now though, he made it run, and then go careening into the fence. The metal ties that held fence to post gave and he was through. So too though, was the man with the shotgun, hot on his heels. Mark looked around wildly, and saw woods but they were acres away. He could see the body of a freshly killed cougar with men standing around it taking pictures. It was the shooting range.

The other option was the road, which he could see through sparse bush to the west of the property. He made the decision that his captor would be a lot less likely to fire a gun off on a roadway. The sudden activity had kicked up the noises of various exotic animals and the man's pack of hounds.

All manner of howls, barks and roars filled Mark's ears. Looking over, he saw Vicki had exited the complex and was headed to the pen that held the hounds. They were sleek well-bred foxhounds. They were also fast and tough as nails. Mark made it to road. It was paved, but Mark couldn't smell any recent traffic, so it had to be fairly isolated. The trees that separated the complex from the road weren't nearly thick enough to seek refuge in.

A quick look behind him showed the hounds spilling from their pen, nearly two dozen strong. The road ran south to north. Mark chose south seeing that the start of thick forest to be much closer. Mark bounded forward, his strides eating up ground. He then had to slow to skitter across the pavement to get to the other side. That was when he heard the shotgun blast.

The effect sent him tumbling down into the ditch. He splashed in the foul smelling water. He'd been hit in the side. It was deep, but he wasn't feeling any pain yet. He hiked up the side of the ditch and saw that the dogs were almost upon him. He knew he couldn't outrun them like this. They were bred to run all day and night, and on to their death if allowed. He made the choice and hoped that they were little used to fighting.

He stood his ground, his hackles raised, and growling as loudly as he could. The hounds were put off by their quarry stopping the chase so soon. Still, the brave ones bared their teeth and went for his throat. Mark bowled over the first wave of them. He made good and sure that any attack using his teeth was fatal. He'd read stories in old texts of dogs being turned werewolf. He had no idea if it was true, but he wasn't going to be responsible for it happening.

The wolf in him rose up and took over in order to spare him the detailed memory of tearing out throats and shaking necks so violently that they snapped. He didn't know how long he fought, merely noticed when the wall of hounds started to thin out. He wasn't bleeding nearly as bad as he anticipated. His thick fur had kept many teeth from penetrating his skin.

Many of the animals had chosen discretion as the better part of valour, and made a break for it. Still, Mark had no time to concentrate on the man, and wasn't aware of his approach until he heard the shotgun cocking. His sides were heaving with his breath, and he raised his eyes to the man with the gun. "It's too bad. I spent a lot of money on you." He said and Mark lunged for him at the same moment that he pulled the trigger. The firearm went off, causing great amounts of pain in Mark's all too sensitive ears.

However, his gambol paid off and it fired into the air and not hitting either of them. They tussled around on the ground. Mark eventually seized the hot barrel of the gun in his jaws and flung it away with a twist of his neck, severely burning his mouth in the process. It landed in the ditch water, and Mark figured that the spirits were smiling on him for the moment.

The man, now relieved of his weapon tried to scramble away and Mark, still not completely thinking like a human, stalked him. He bared his teeth and snapped his jaws, making the pain in his mouth worse and him angrier. He didn't care that this was a human being in front of him. He just wanted escape with no fear of being followed. He would have killed the man, had he not heard her cry out first. "Dad!" Vicki screamed. She was running headlong towards them, a rifle in her arms. Something about how this girl was being raised made Mark figure she knew how to use it. He backed off and just glared at the man, mouth closed, and hackles down. He forced him, in a way, to look at what he did for a living. Maybe an old psychic ability flared up, because the man's expression changed. His fear and anger turned to curiosity and awe. He seemed to realize that he was looking at no ordinary wolf. Boldly, brazenly, he reached out to Mark. Mark would give him no such satisfaction and turned.

The girl must have seen this as a threatening motion, and had the rifle raised and fired as soon as Mark was just clear from her father. The second bullet didn't put Mark on the ground, merely spurred him into a run. He wasn't even sure where he'd been hit, just that he had been. He put paws to pavement, and ran as fast as he could south. He jumped the ditch in a single bound, and made for the trees. Behind him he heard the gun being readied to fire again, when the man's voice interrupted. "No Vicki! Stop! Let him go."

That didn't slow Mark's pace any. The forest seemed to open and swallow him as he went through the tree line. Once under the canopy, he continued to run, just wanting as much space between that place and himself as possible. The trees parted like water before him. His instinct seemed to know where to carry him, and where to place his feet so he didn't stumble. The woods became a second skin in an instant. He ran until the sun started to go down. He wasn't sure how far he'd come, but he was fairly assured that he wasn't being followed. He slowed to a lope and then a trot. He was exhausted, hungry and thirsty. He was also starting to feel the pain of the bullets that were lodged in him.

The second shot was in his flank, and it was agony to move his right hind leg. The other bullet wound in his left side only hurt when he had to do pesky things like breathing. He realized his priority was water. He was dehydrated from his long time spent sedated and his marathon. He raised his nose and smelled for water. Mercifully, he did detect it. He stopped only momentarily to listen for it as well. He could hear it, water over rocks, not too far away, and to the west. He trotted in the direction of the sunset and tried to ignore the pain he was in.

As he got closer to the water, he also caught the smell of people. He slowed down and chose stealth. He needed clean water and that was all. He had to risk it. Mercifully it didn't smell like a city or town. He picked up the smell of animals, mostly of horses, but it didn't smell like a farm either. He could detect wood smoke and someone was cooking. A camp perhaps?

Yes, that's what it was. Trailers became visible across the river. Mark slunk through the underbrush, assessing the situation. The pain was causing him to have to pause every few steps now. There were also two low slung barns; one had a wooden fence made into a pasture behind it. The other had reinforced chain link runs on either side. Mark was nervous of that. There was a house that was close to a gravel road. It didn't look like it was used much. The windows needed paint and the porch was decaying. There was also a tall driving shed, which looked to be the most well kept of the structures. Somewhere a dog barked. He retreated into the woods and watched. He was down wind, and hoped that was enough to avoid detection. He then caught the scent of animals he'd never smelled before. He was just wondering what it was, when it was revealed to him. An Asian elephant made its way out of the driving shed, followed by two others.

Mark went wide-eyed, trying to get a handle on what he was seeing. Looking around at the trailers, he saw that many of them were decorated in what would have been bright colours, had be he been able to see colour. It was a fucking circus. Literally. He shook his head, his pain forgotten for a moment, and sat on his haunches. The elephants came down to the river, it was deep and fairly clear. The mud was only stirred up when the huge animals walked into it for a bath. How Mark longed to do what they were doing. His burnt mouth was parched and he wanted the cold water to run over his open wounds to clean and numb them. He made himself wait though. He forced himself to. He waited until dark and the camp had calmed for the night. He couldn't go any farther realistically. Even a few miles in either direction was out of the question. Besides, who knew what lay up or down stream from this place?

He picked his way down to bank to the water's edge, glad for his dark fur. His legs had had the time to stiffen up on him, and he stumbled more then once. His right hind leg was now dragging behind him, pretty much immobile. He didn't care. He was fevered and pretty much crazy from thirst. The first few mouthfuls were worth his lack of discretion to him. He drank, and then lay on the pebbled bank to let the water pass over him. It felt so good that he let himself doze and then fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. I just like them.

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Chapter 4 Bend in the Water

Mark awoke in a haze. His body was still fevered, and he definitely not where he had fallen asleep. He was inside again for one, a small kennel on a clean blanket, and beside him a bowl of raw meat and one of water. Taking stock of his wolf body, he'd also been bathed and bandaged. His hind leg had been cast. He must have broken it in his tumble down the bank. On force of habit he tried to shift, but again, no response. That agitated and worried him deeply.

He was hungry, but raw meat had only ever been in his diet at the height of a rage. Mixed in with it was a cereal, and something chemical... A multivitamin if his nose was still working properly. More though, he was still thirsty. His tongue felt swollen and sandpaper like from the burns. He was far too weak and injured to try and escape this time. He was wondered how long he'd been out. It couldn't have been long as he normally healed very quickly since being turned. He staggered to his feet, and figured out how to move while keeping his hind leg held mostly aloft.

He nosed at the water. It seemed cold and clear of anything that might do him harm, and he lapped at it. It was then he became aware of the heavy chain that attached to a collar around his neck, and the other end was attached to the wall. He chose to concentrate on the water instead. That is until a face appeared at the door. Unfortunately it wasn't Glenn's. It was an old woman's. Well, 'aging gracefully' would be the diplomatic way to put it. The door opened and it was revealed that she was alone and that she wasn't armed.

Mark's head stayed in the water bowl. The wolf in him told him to display dominance. He kept his eyes locked on the woman. Her footfalls into the room were light. She wore no shoes. Her skirt was long and intricately patterned. Her long grey hair hung in a braid down the back of her lean body. She would have been stunning in her youth. The way she moved seemed to indicate she knew something of body language and wanted the encounter to remain peaceful. Mark remained neutral, but gave nothing away in terms of dominance. She bravely sat down within the reach of the chain, and produced a paper wrapped object. It was a Burger King Whopper. He had no idea how she'd gotten one way the hell out here, but he was mighty interested.

"I think one such as you might prefer this for dinner, as opposed to the regular fare." Mark's tail wagged a bit. He limped over to and lay down beside the woman. She unwrapped the burger, and tore a piece of the bun off, offering him the lion's share. They ate at the same time, making the point to Mark that she wasn't trying to dominate him, but that she wasn't going to submit to him either. Mark ate, and they stared at each other for awhile, and then Mark limped back to the water and finished that off.

"They messed you up pretty bad didn't they Mark?" That got him to look back up at her. He glared at her and opened his mouth as if to speak, and then shut it remembering he couldn't. "It's a well woven curse you have on you. Very intricate. I don't know much about those things, only really to recognize them when I see them. What I can do is help you heal, and make you more comfortable. But you will have to behave yourself, stick with me you know? I assume you're unregistered."

Mark closed his eyes and nodded up and down. "Well, I don't blame you. The idea kind of creeps me out too." She said. Mark went back to her, and laid his sore, tired self down beside her. He laid his head on her lap. She smelt of sage, tobacco, and wood smoke. "Maybe we can even find this Glenn person you cry out for in your sleep." Mark met her eyes. He would have cried if he was able. Instead he licked her hand. "Hey, easy, fresh." She laughed lightly. She then reached around the back of his neck and pulled the pin that held the collar on him, and threw it aside. "You think you can make a two hundred yard walk with that leg? It'll mean a bunk in my trailer as opposed to a blanket on the floor." He got to his feet with more then enough determination. She got to her feet and led him out the door.

Other large, predatory animals were being kept there. Lions, tigers, and bears... Not to mention leopards, cheetahs, birds of prey, including a snowy owl and a bald eagle, and a couple of sea lions in a room with an in ground pool. He paused by the kennel that held natural wolves and sniffed at it. He heard a growl on the other side of the door. It was enough to keep him moving along behind the woman as quickly as he could go.

Outside he heard the neigh of a horse and the answering bray of a zebra, and wondered just what the hell he'd stumbled into. "This is our off season home, Mark." The woman answered. He considered her, and concluded that she was more empathic then telepathic. She could only read his thoughts by how strongly he felt about them. They walked towards the trailers. He saw a preteen girl practicing fire breathing. A woman was riding a large black horse with a long mane and tail around without aid of a bridle or saddle. Children either ran around playing or were seated outside at picnic tables taking lessons from one of the parents. Still other people lazed in the sunshine, visiting and not doing much of anything. "Got another familiar, Roma?" A thick set man with a bristling beard asked her. Mark eyed him warily.

"This one is special Rufus. He's an equal."

"And what would make him that?" Rufus leaned down looking him over carefully. Mark's hackles raised and he growled low.

"He understands every word you say."

"That's a talented wolf." He replied, straightening up. The words hit Mark harshly. To the rest of the world, he was no longer human. He never had been. A gifted few would recognize him for what he was, and far fewer still might hold any way to help him. He followed his benefactor when she moved off, limping physically and mentally. He was an animal now. Hunter had won. It filled him with a deep melancholy and he knew it would last a long time. He felt exhausted and weak, despite knowing otherwise. Even his injured state couldn't sap him of his preternatural strength. He just didn't care. When they arrived at a custom painted trailer, he was invited inside. 'Mistress Roma, at one with the wild' was emblazoned on the side. Mark ignored it, and hopped tenderly up the steps.

"There are two bunks. I prefer the left one. It's easier to get out of with my hip the way it is. Still hungry or just tired?" Mark gave her a wink and then went back to the sleeping area. He managed to use his front legs to pull him up rather then using his back end to jump up. He found that if he laid on his right side and was careful not to put his left hind leg on the right one, he could rest comfortably. He was asleep in minutes. He dreamed about his former life. The dark times that haunted him. Mostly he focused on Glenn. He dreamed about loosing him and not being able to find him. He just wanted his brother, wanted his family. Everything would turn out okay if Glenn were here. He tried to reach out in his dream and find him, but that was as useless as trying to shift was becoming.

"Puppy!" Mark snorted awake. It had been a child's voice that had made the exclamation. He focused his eyes and saw a little girl that stood beside the bunk watching him intently. She had dark hair and eyes, and was actually rather cute.

"No, child, that's Mark. He'll be staying with me for awhile."

"I like him."

"I'm sure he'll like you much better if you leave him to sleep. He's had a rough go of life lately."

"But he'll get better. You always make animals better."

"I do my best. But Mark is no mere animal, Lilly. If you're kind to him I'm sure you'll find he's much more then that. For now though, leave him to get better." Mark moved and slid down off the bunk as if to say 'its okay, I'm up' to both of them. He licked the girl's cheek a few times, much to her delight. "Going to get up finally? Well, come on and have something to eat. The scenery's changed just so you know." Roma said. He propped his front paws up on the counter, and put his remaining weight on his left hind leg. Gone was the idyllic country setting. It had been replaced with the parking lot of some small town arena. "You've been sleeping for something like a week now. We just couldn't wake you." Mark nodded and put all four on the floor again. He let the child pet his fur while a meal was prepared for him. It felt good to have a kind hand on him after all the abuse that had been done to him.

He ate and had many things explained to him. Currently they were in the Carolinas. Mistress Roma was a circus Jill-of-all-trades now that her acrobatic days were over. She read palms and tarot cards, and supervised care for many of the exotic animals traveling with them. She was a backstage ring master, keeping everyone organized and running on time. She also took care of much of the bookkeeping.

Mark also learned that she asked nothing of him unless he wanted to do something. She was to stay with her to rehabilitate and adjust to what his life had become. "You've been greatly wronged. I just want to make sure that you don't end up as someone's hunting lodge decoration." Mark placed his head on her seated legs. If only she knew how close he'd come to that. "Still got it in you to live after all you've been through?" He sighed. He had reason to live. He had to find his brother.

He accompanied Roma on a short walk after that to stretch himself out, still limping on his broken leg. It was healing well, he could feel that much, but he was still very much incapacitated. That's when he heard someone's radio going.

"Still missing is Mark Callaway, a professional wrestler known as the Undertaker. It's been speculated that he's driven himself underground after being exposed as an unregistered lycanthrope. The registry is reminding people that unregistered lycanthropes are considered at large and dangerous. Do not approach them if you see them, and contact local registry authorities and police. Mark Callaway is a former WWE champion and has in recent years committed much of his earnings to charitable organizations and events, though often anonymously. Because of his lycanthropy, and the risk of turning an opponent during a match, he was officially fired from the WWE before this story broke."

Mark didn't look to Roma or anybody else to see if they'd been paying attention. He just limped over to where Lilly and most of the other kids sat a picnic tables 'in class' for daily home schooling. He caused a minor break in learning, and the kids were allowed to hug and pet him. It made him feel a hell of a lot better actually. He laid down in the shade of the table and snoozed.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine. I just like them.

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Chapter 5 - If You Could Read My Mind

Mark became an unofficial guardian over the next few months. At first tied to the camp by his immobility, and then as his leg healed, by his growing affection for those he traveled with. He watched out over the children and camp where ever they made it. He was somewhat aloof and wary with adults, save for Roma of course, but proved himself to be exceedingly gentle with the children.

It didn't take long for him to start loosing chunks of time. He'd be nosing around and then suddenly find himself completely across camp. It worried him more then not being able to shift. He didn't seem to be turning violent, rather becoming a content, well-fed wolf. Roma noticed this behaviour change quite quickly, but Mark could make no indication that he knew what was going on, because he didn't.

As their season picked up, more and more people joined the caravan of trailers and cube vans, and they started hitting larger centers. Mark found that cities made him uneasy now. He stuck close to his benefactor and came to trust her deeply. She also trusted him implicitly and acknowledged his humanity. She spoke to him as if he were still human, even when he was out of it.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he started to see her as that nurturing maternal figure he had lost. He started to feel at home amongst this patchwork family, even if they didn't know the complete truth of what he was. He and Roma kept the bare bones of Mark's situation a secret for his safety. Still, he thought of Glenn and tried to reach out to him often. Despite it being futile, he didn't give up on it. Without Roma being sensitive enough to his thoughts, he couldn't explain any way for her to contact Glenn.

So he watched his surroundings, watched over them really. He intimidated the overly curious and kept them away. He also chased off potential thieves or vandals. He kept the children out of any potentially dangerous situations, playing trusted babysitter at local parks. He never thought he'd enjoy children so much. Their innocence led them to believe that he was a friend as opposed to a pet or guard dog. They talked to him like he was a trusted friend, and told them what scared or worried them. Mark's mere presence seemed to ease them after they did so. His great size kept average adults away. They would either pack up their kids and leave, or stand amazed looking at one of the largest canines they'd ever seen effectively keep ten kids in one general area. Then, lead them back to camp, usually with Lilly perched on his back. That became his role, protector. The alpha in him was content with this.

It was the kids that kept him going actually. Their love of life kept Mark interested. His gentleness with them led the adults to accept him readily as well. He was surprised when one of the acrobats, in full costume and headed into the arena, placed her three month old infant between his front paws, and made the run for the centre ring. Mark gave a quizzical look after the woman, and then gave the same expression down at the baby, as if to say: "What the hell do I do with this?" Roma caught sight of this, and found it all hilarious.

"Just look after him for a few moments, she won't be long." She said between laughing and getting the next act in line. Mark sighed, still looking rather unsure, if a wolf could do so, and then picked up the bundle the child was swaddled with in his teeth. He went over to a shady spot under an awning and cuddled up with the child, keeping it warm. It was the strangest thing for Mark. He had vivid memories of pounding the tar out of people, but he couldn't ever remember holding a baby. It thawed a part of him he didn't know was frozen. He'd come to care about the world, not to just enjoy it. He cared to know what would happen to this kid the next day, and the day after, and years from now. Like he cared to know how Glenn was doing. Strange and uncomfortable at first, he settled into the emotion fairly quickly. He found he liked it.

It was on one of his excursions to a park with the kids that Mark caught a scent that wafted his way in the urban chaos of scents. It made him stop dead in his tracks. Glenn... Glenn was very close to where they were. It took every fiber if his impulsive being to return the children safely to the parking area where they belonged. He did so, greeted Roma, but then slipped away at the first opportunity in the forming dusk. He had to be careful. An animal his size and on the loose would not go unnoticed in a large city.

Glenn's scent had held despite the city environment. He'd been out on a walk. He did that often, Mark knew. He just needed a lot of time to himself, and that was how he got away from everyone. Mark had to track it by using alleys behind buildings and finding scent pools on the other side. The scent wasn't fresh, but it wasn't old either. Glenn had been here recently. Perhaps he'd gone for lunch near by. It was close to the city's major sports arena, so Mark hoped he wasn't too late. He came to an eight-foot tall chain link fence that separated a talent entrance parking area from the alley he was in. He looked through it, and then there was Glenn, getting out of a rental car. Mark made the closest vocalization he could to a bark, with a bit of a high-pitched whine thrown in.

Glenn looked over, but didn't see him and started to move off. That got Mark desperate. He couldn't loose his brother again with him so close. Mark made the same noise, and shouted with his mind, hoping Glenn would be listening for such things.

_"Glenn! Please! It's me!"_ Glenn dropped his bag of ring gear and spun on his heel. Mark stood up on his hind legs, front paws on the chain link fence. He pricked up his ears and wagged his tail.

_"Mark?"_ Glenn mental voice washed into Mark's mind in a wave of relief.

_"It's me, Glenn. I've been hoping to find you. This is what Hunter did to me. I can't shift back. I've missed you so much; I didn't know what to do... I tried to find you with my mind, but it just wouldn't work. I've wanted to find you so badly."_ Mark's thoughts started to trip over themselves. He'd been too long without practical communication. His thoughts were whirling and bombarding to Glenn.

_"Take it easy, Mark. Slow down."_ Glenn had retrieved his belongings and was coming towards the fence. _"Just relax."_ Too late for that. Mark had backed off the fence, then jumped it in a single bound. In the next instant he'd jumped up on Glenn and was licking his cheek and chin. Glenn got caught up in Mark's happiness for a moment. He laid his hands in fur and smiled.

_"Mark, Hunter's here tonight. If anyone sees you and knows what to look for, we're both in for a fight."_

_"I'm not afraid of him. All he's got left to do is kill me... And after what I've been through, I'm not sure I'd mind that all that much."_

_"On my account then, you should at least be wary. Have you got some place to hang out until I'm done?"_

_"I want to stay with you. I'm not loosing you again. Tell Hunter you got a dog." _

_"Mark, be reasonable about this. This is going to sound strange coming from me, I mean, I had a hell of a time after you were abducted, but we've got to keep cooler heads. Meet me back here at midnight."_

_"I-I can't... I mean, I don't know if I can. I've been blanking out, becoming completely wolf for periods of time. I can't remember where I've been during them. I don't want to loose you. I can't loose you. I just can't. I can't go any longer like this. I think I'm loosing myself to the wolf. I need you."_ Mark pleaded, then licked Glenn's face again. For a moment, Glenn tightened his grip.

_"You think you can stay in the car until I'm done?"_ Glenn asked.

_"Yeah, Glenn. I'm tired anyways. I could use the sleep."_

_"You tired? Never happen."_

_"I've got reason now."_

_"Tell me later. I gotta go, and you should get yourself hidden."_ Mark got down to the pavement, and Glenn let him into the luxury sedan's spacious back seat. He arranged himself with his head closest to the driver's seat, where he could smell Glenn's lingering scent the strongest. For a few moments, he was hyper-sensitive to every noise, most particularly footsteps and voices. He heard several that were familiar. He thought he even heard Hunter's voice, but the cavernous parking area made for strange, muffled echoes when inside a vehicle.

When the pre-show activity died down, he eventually closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. He wasn't disturbed until he heard a key in the lock. He looked up to see Glenn, his hair still damp from the shower, getting into the car. Mark hopped over the seat back in to the passenger seat. He licked Glenn's cheek again when he was settled in the car. _"Why are you doing that?"_ Glenn asked.

_"Because I missed you." _Mark replied.

_"Would you lay off? I've wanted many things in my life, but never once for you to kiss me."_ Mark backed off immediately, looking dejected and Glenn realized his mistake.

_"I'm sorry, Glenn."_ He said. _"It's just that touch is comfort to me now. I didn't mean to piss you off."_

_"No, I'm not mad. Come here... Just don't wash off my cologne."_ Glenn reached for the wolf's furry form and held him close for awhile. Mark butted his head against Glenn's chest, thrilled all over again. _"So what's been wearing you out these days?"_

Mark gave Glenn mental directions to where Roma and the others had set up. He gave a short warning 'bark' to notify the camp of his return. Mark led Glenn out of the gloom enthusiastically. He trotted around his brother, only narrowly avoiding getting underfoot, jumping up on him, and pretty much unable to contain his joy.

Roma was the first person to get close. _"Tell her, Glenn. Tell her who you are. Tell her who I am. She's the one that took care of me after I got hurt so bad."_

_"How did you get hurt?"_ Glenn asked, still unclear of the details of where Mark had gotten to after he'd gone missing.

_"Just tell her."_ Mark insisted.

"Hi, I'm Glenn." He said to her, and shook her hand.

"He found you. That's amazing. I'm Roma."

"He says you've been taking care of him."

"How did he say anything?" Roma's dark eyes pierced into him.

"Let's just say I'm more sensitive to these things then most." Glenn replied with a wink.

"I see." She said with a wry smile. "Can I offer you something to drink?" Glenn spent the next couple of hours around a portable fire pit explaining just who and what Mark was, with a beer in hand, a slew of circus performers, and one very happy wolf that dashed around with the older kids that still hadn't gone to bed yet. "Will Mark be staying with you now?" Roma asked him at one point.

"It's up to him, ma'am." Glenn said.

All eyes went to Mark. He'd been roughhousing with the boys over a piece of rope to hold safety rigging in place. He backed off, got quiet, and looked at Glenn. Glenn's facial expressions indicated a conversation without words. Mark then came and sat in front of Glenn and put his head on his leg. Glenn spoke for him. "He uh, he says he needs me, and that he wants to go home."

Mark said his farewells through touch, making a point to get into the trailer where young Lilly slept, and lick her cheek a few times. He also hopped up on Roma's shoulders and licked her cheek a few times as well.

Glenn could feel the maternal bond between them and wasn't quite sure what to think about it. He could also feel Mark's contentment, but he couldn't differentiate if it was because of where they were at the moment, or if it was their reunion that had done it. This seemed to be the kind of place where Mark would have the constant company he desired. Glenn wasn't sure he could provide that kind of emotional support, but after months of waiting and worrying, he wanted his brother back. No matter what shape his body had taken.

That night at the hotel, after sneaking him in, Glenn wasn't surprised when Mark hopped up on the end of the bed with him. Glenn laid a hand between Mark's ears where the fur was puppy soft. "I missed you, Mark." Glenn told him. He got no response. He realized that Mark wasn't in right now, and that a friendly, but complete wolf was sharing his bed. Glenn had to force himself to be calm, and force all thoughts of Little Red Riding Kane out of his mind. Mark's body was content, even if his mind wasn't in control of it, and Glenn should be too. He leaned slowly down to the pillow and let himself sleep.

Around 4 AM Glenn felt the bed shift beside him. Mark had moved up beside him, his back against Glenn. _"Glenn's here. I found Glenn. Everything is fine."_ Mark told himself, and Glenn heard those thoughts. He was thankful that they were cognizant and human again. Mark inhaled deeply in a tooth-exposing yawn. He had all the proper wolf dentition now as well. Something Glenn would have to be well aware of.

"I missed you." Glenn tried again.

_"I missed you too."_ Mark replied.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters not mine. I just like them.

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Chapter 6 - Home From the Forest

They left early, Glenn driving a rental car towards Houston. Mark sat in the passenger seat. He made Glenn burst out laughing when he nosed the button for the motorized window, and stuck his head out in the breeze, mouth open and tongue lolling out. _"I see you haven't completely lost your sense of humour."_ Glenn said.

_"Wait until I make you pick up my shit."_ Mark sent back to him.

_"Fuck off, Mark."_

_"Hush now, I'm having fun."_ Mark replied. Glenn was in the middle of passing a minivan with at least four kids in the back of it. He barked, and they waved.

_"The Lord of Darkness having fun... Unbelievable."_ Glenn was genuinely amused and more then a little amazed by what was happening in the passenger seat.

_"It's hard to be the Lord of Darkness without opposable thumbs."_ Mark reasoned.

They bantered via their psychic connection for most of the drive. Mark had sorely missed communication. Glenn kept it up because he didn't want to have to deal with a wolf in the passenger seat. Once they did get back to Houston, it was decided that Mark's ranch outside the city was the better option to stay at as opposed to one of the houses in town. Mark had piqued Glenn's interest in real estate as a way of investing, and they both owned a few properties.

Mark sniffed around the outside while Glenn got his luggage out of the trunk. He passed the information for the security system to Glenn, and they were soon inside. When they were, Mark spent a lot of time looking up. The perspective was completely different. He trotted around the house several times and Glenn didn't push the issue. Instead, he prepared a meal from the freezer and non-perishables, and tossed out food that was unrecognizable to him from the fridge. Mark eventually arrived in the kitchen and sat on his haunches. Glenn set the meal he'd made for Mark down on the floor, and the wolf ate eagerly. He also accepted a bowl of water to wash it down.

Glenn cleaned up and then picked up the phone to call his girlfriend. Mark flopped on the floor by his feet. "Hey Trish... Aww, I missed you too... I'm at Mark's. I just felt I had to come out here, get things looked after, you know? ... No, I haven't given up on him. Far from it. There are things that need to be handled, bills to be paid, that kind of thing. You should fly down and see me... Creepy? Uh, if you consider his art collection creepy... Oh, it's all over the board. He's got a few pieces by minor masters, a lot of non-objective stuff, some native pieces, most recently he was fascinated with Emily Carr and the Group of Seven... No, really. I'm serious. Well, why don't you come down here and I'll prove it to you... Okay then. Call me with the time and I'll come and pick you up. Okay, I love you too... See you soon." He hung up the phone and met Mark's eyes. _"I hope you don't mind."_

_"No, Glenn. The two of you can use my room. It's the most comfortable. Besides, I don't really have any use for a king size bed at the moment."_ Glenn found himself reaching down to Mark's forlorn looking face without trepidation. The best comfort for him was touch, he'd said so himself. Confronting the reality of his existence was taking its toll on him, it seemed. Mark met him half way, and let himself be comforted.

_"I've got you Mark. It's okay. Well, it'll be as okay as I can make it."_

_"How could he just claim dominion over my life like that?"_ If Mark had been able, he probably would have been fighting off tears. _"I never hurt anyone that didn't deserve it. I just... I just wanted to set things right."_

_"I know Mark. And you have for the most part. Most of the people we know mutually are sympathetic to your plight. They don't know for sure what Hunter did to you other then expose you, but they feel bad that you had your life taken from you. Everyone's told me that they are genuinely hoping for your safe return. Now, it might not be what they expected-"_

_"I'm not me anymore, Glenn. Only you or other powerful telepaths can communicate with me. Most people won't be willing to accept what I've become. I'm just an animal to most humans now."_

_"Don't think like that. I know you're in there. I'm going to try everything I can find to get a way back for you... But even if that doesn't happen, I promise you here and now that I'll be around to listen to you. You stuck around and healed me, even when we were fighting. It's the very least I can do for you. No matter how much excess body hair you've got, you'll always be my brother."_ Mark was leaning his solid form on Glenn. He couldn't help himself, he licked Glenn's cheek a few times, and Glenn didn't protest in the slightest.

_"I'm tired."_ Mark said.

_"Then you should sleep."_ They bunked out in the lower level rec-room in front of the large screen TV. Here, as with the rest of the house, doubled as gallery space for Mark's art collection. He had started acquiring pieces even as a young man, but had really picked up during the Ministry days at the peek of his power. Part of him had seemed to be excess personified during that time. But it suited the character he played and his own personality well.

In this room, the big screen was dominated by two large, non-objective paintings on the wall. One was a Kandinsky, and the other a Pollock. They had been hung and lit correctly and Glenn found himself distracted from the television. His eyes kept on wandering over to the paintings. He realized that Mark was looking at them as well more often then not.

_"They're amazing, Mark."_ Glenn told him.

_"Yes, they are. I hope to be able to see them in colour again some day."_ Glenn didn't reply, but let Mark's heavy head rest on his leg. Glenn could feel Mark's depression and melancholy. It was a strange roll-reversal for them. Mark had been the calm, assured one, and Glenn had been regulated to 'silent monster' for so long. Now Mark was in that place, and Glenn felt deep empathy for him. He had to fix this some how. He had to.

_"Mark?"_ Glenn asked. The wolf was almost asleep.

_"Yes?"_ Mark asked. Even his mental voice sounded tired to Glenn.

_"So, what do I tell Trish?"_

_"Whatever you think_ _she'll believe. Wait... Trish Stratus?"_

_"The one and only."_ Glenn replied, and smiled. The fact that his mouth was not moving would have been creepy to anybody but Mark.

_"You mean to tell me that you're dating Trish, fitness model, women's champion, and one of the best asses in the business Stratus?"_

_"That's the one."_

_"Well, I am impressed. You'll forgive me if I follow that up by promptly falling asleep? Not that I'm not interested, I'm just exhausted."_

_"Goodnight, Mark."_

Glenn flicked through the channels, but didn't really pay attention to anything. He was thinking about Mark, about how tired he was now. He used to have boundless energy. He'd stay up for days on end. Even before he was turned, but more so after. Glenn had witnessed him, on a new moon and at low ebb mind you, heal him for eight straight hours while drinking a 40oz bottle of Jack Daniels, then drive 150 miles to the next city they were scheduled to appear in, only to go out partying with the boys, and then be fresh as a daisy for a media press conference at 7AM.

Glenn wondered if his brother's exhaustion was a result of not being able to do what he once could. Mark was lonely and trying to escape life, and so he slept. Glenn couldn't blame him if this was the case... That was when Mark's eyes sprang open and he hopped down off the couch. "Mark, what is it?" Glenn asked and got no response. _"Mark?"_ He asked mentally, and again got no reply. He was a wolf only again. Glenn followed him on his first few trotting circuits of the house, then realized Mark wasn't going to get crazy or anything, and so left him to it. Glenn tried to go to bed, but found he was kept awake by the sound of claws clicking on tile or hardwood.

Glenn came to the conclusion that Mark still had a lot of his energy. But that this was how it all got burned up. His first instinct was to let Mark out to run around the property, but he worried that Mark wouldn't return. Mark had explained not being conscience in the slightest when he gave in to the wolf. Then again, he seemed to return to Roma without any trouble, and in foreign territory. Glenn hadn't seen any method of restraining him at their camp. He would have had to be loose to find Glenn in the first place. Roma had told him about Mark's playing watchdog for the camp and children. Mark certainly wasn't dangerous, even like this.

Glenn groaned and got out of bed, and then pretty much bumped into Mark at the door of the room. The wolf looked up at him with expectant eyes. "Fine, but you gotta promise to stay on the property." Glenn told him and they headed for the kitchen and the patio doors located there. The wolf trotted beside him, claws clicking rhythmically on the hard surfaces of the floors.

They exchanged a final look at the doors, and Glenn unlocked and slid one open. They stepped out onto the deck beside each other, then the wolf licked his hands a few times, and was down the steps and gone into the night. Any sound of his footfalls was covered by the breeze that had risen. Glenn hoped he'd done the right thing, and then went back to bed.

The red-black wolf headed out over the expanse of terrain before him. He investigated the herd of cattle, and the band of horses. He kicked up various small mammals, but had no urge to hunt them with his belly full and the next meal fairly assured. The tall human would feed him. He heard and smelled dogs and humans in the distance. Hunters if the scent of gun oil told him correctly. He was down wind of them, and stayed that way. He loped through fields of hay and grain. A low, long striding gate kept him moving effortlessly over the earth. He paused at a stream that wasn't too polluted and drank. He waded in chest deep, enjoying the cool of it. He vaguely recalled another evening spent in cool water, but he had been in pain that time. But that was all he remembered. There was no circumstance or context that came with the memory.

The first inklings of dawn came in the east, and he started moving back from where he'd come. The tall man. Food. Both would be waiting for him. Glenn came into the kitchen to find a huge mass of fur, curled into a ball, was lying beside the patio door. Glenn breathed a sigh of relief. He opened the door and the wolf raised its head. "Hungry?" He asked.

The wolf stood and stretched, but looked at him in such a way that Glenn knew that Mark had not come out of it. That worried Glenn. Still, the wolf remained non-threatening and waited patiently for a plate of food to be set down in front of him. He ate it in a matter of bites, and then followed Glenn to Mark's home gym to snooze while Glenn worked out.

During his cool down, Glenn heard a voice in his head. _"Shit, how long have I been out of it?"_

"Since last night. Just after you fell asleep, you woke up and wouldn't stop moving around, so I let you out to run around. This morning, I found you on the deck by the patio doors, waiting to be fed apparently."

_"I'm sorry Glenn. I just get so... lost in this I guess."_

"It's okay. You aren't dangerous when you're not in control. Actually, you seem rather content."

_"Only because I don't know any better."_

"He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of all the pain of being a man." Glenn quoted.

_"I'll take that bet."_ Mark cracked. They headed back to the kitchen and the phone rang. Glenn checked the call display and then picked up with a smile on his face.

"Hey, Trish... Working out. Mark's got a good set up here... Great. When? Beautiful, I'll see you then. Bye." He hung up and looked down at Mark. "She'll be here in two days."

_"Good. You'll probably get sick of me eventually."_

"Believe it or not, I don't get sick of you. Trish coming here just has other benefits."

_"Ugh, don't remind me. I gotta get human again. I need to get laid."_

"Who says you need to look human to get some? I'm sure someone out there has a wolf fetish."

_"Oh, shut up."_

"Or we could just call Amy. She'll try anything, or anybody once."

_"Oh... Oh I think I'm going to be sick_." Mark gave a few dry hacks and rolled his eyes.

"I'm kidding. You know I am. Anyway, I figured I could start looking for something in your library... That is, if you'll let me."

_"Of course, Glenn. I just humbly request that you stay out of anything I've written, books of shadows and the like. Old habits die hard. I'm afraid that you'll have to do most of the looking. I don't read very well these days. No patience for it."_

"Okay, that's fine."

That's where Glenn spent most of that day and the next. Mark reverted to wolf mere hours into that afternoon. He curled up near Glenn, and every once in awhile batting at Glenn's feet like a cat would. Mark was quite affectionate to Glenn when he was in this mental state. He was also at one with his environment and in complete harmony with everything.

Glenn couldn't help but notice when they took a walk the night before Trish was due to arrive. Despite the large size of the animal beside him, he moved silently. Glenn felt rather clumsy next to all that controlled power and grace. The wolf just didn't place a foot wrong... Ever. Not a stone or a leaf out of place. He hardly disturbed the grass he stepped on. Glenn also had to label this aspect of Mark 'the wolf', simply because Mark wasn't in control. That didn't mean he was out of control; rather that Mark wasn't behind the wheel at the moment.

TBC... Will post more later tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Characters not mine. I just like them.

Chapter 7 Rainy Day People

The wolf aspect of Mark remained until the next day when Glenn had to go pick up Trish. He was loath to leave Mark a prisoner in his own home, but wanted to be sure no trouble of any sort could start while he was away. He left the wolf with a fair sized bowl of beer in front of the TV, watching the Discovery Channel and a documentary about wolves. The natural kind that is. He seemed to enjoy the howling and more then once Glenn was treated to an ear shattering song contributed by Mark.

Glenn drove to the airport, ears still ringing, and trying to think of ways to explain that the overgrown wolf in his brother's house was actually his brother, and that Glenn was bound by blood and honour to help him.

He concluded that he would tell her outright. When she got curious and asked about it and that shouldn't take too long. She knew about Glenn's power, and more vaguely about Mark's. She obviously knew that he was a lycanthrope, and that he was missing, but not how he'd gone missing. The story had been big news, and caused some paranoia in the sports world about the possibility of other lycanthropic athletes. Glenn hoped that Mark and/or the wolf took a liking to her. The three of them might be stuck together awhile.

Trish seemed to float into the arrival's gate in large faux tortoise shell sunglasses, a ball cap covering her locks, and jeans that were chosen as to not attract any excess attention. She was tanned enough to look local as opposed to pasty Canadian that Glenn liked to tease her about being. Glenn thought she looked perfect no matter what she was wearing and smiled.

They greeted each other with a kiss and a warm embrace. Glenn was a bit baffled still that Trish had said yes to a date, let alone a long-term relationship. He knew of course that she loved who he was, loved his honesty and gentleness with her. He knew that she was truly happy when she was with him. He could read her mind after all... Still, he didn't quite know what he'd done to deserve it. All he could do was treat her the best he possibly could, even when they fought, which was inevitable when they traveled so much together.

"How was the flight?" He asked.

"Bumpy. Turbulence all the way down. I'm glad to be on the ground again." She replied, and Glenn took her large pieces of luggage.

"I hate flights like that."

"Ugh, they're just the worst. So, why are you staying at Mark's? Just miss him?"

"Eh, you'll see."

"It's okay to still not be all right about him being gone. You two had finally gotten really close." She said as they headed for the doors. Glenn gave her his best Mona Lisa smile. It was an expression learned from Mark, used when he didn't want to give much away on any given topic. Glenn had found it very useful. He pretended to give her bags an extra heft to change the subject.

"Geez, girl, what did you pack?"

"A little bit of everything. Just to piss you off."

"That's just great." Glenn said and rolled his eyes.

Back at the ranch, Mark was making a racket on the other side of the door.

_"Mark, what are you doing?"_ Glenn projected while still outside.

_"Messing with Trish's head... And I have to piss, so hurry up."_

"May want to stand back from the door, Trish." Glenn warned.

"I didn't know Mark had a dog. Who's been taking care of it?" Glenn ignored Trish's question momentarily, and opened the door. Mark bounded out onto the porch and hopped up on Glenn. Glenn, somewhat off kilter because of Trish's luggage was knocked squarely on his ass. "Holy shit!" Trish yelled, and remained panicked until Glenn started laughing.

"Get the hell off me!" He cried, and the enormous creature was shoved off, only to head butt Glenn again. Trish finally got a good look.

"Glenn, that's a wolf. I may have grown up in Toronto, but I know a wolf when I see one." The play wrestling match that had started paused, and Mark moved off, down the steps, and around the corner of the house for a moment.

"You're half-right." Glenn said, still seated on the floor of the porch.

"How can I be half-right? That's a wolf, no matter how friendly he is." Trish insisted.

"The wolf is also Mark." Glenn said. He had a small grin on his face as he spoke.

"What?" She asked, her eyes going wide.

"It's Mark. Certain people we know found out about his lycanthropy and used many of the same forces that Mark has in the past to curse him to this form. He hasn't been able to change back since."

"That can't be." Trish's expression softened, but she still looked astonished.

"There are more things..." Glenn started.

"... in heaven and earth then are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio. I know the quote." Trish said, and rolled her eyes.

"I know you do, Trish. I suggest you take it to heart. If you can deal with us freaks, that is." Mark returned and sat beside Glenn, resting his chin on Glenn's shoulder. "Nice timing for dramatic effect, fur face."

_"Yeah, you'd think I used to do it for a living or something."_ Mark commented, and gave Glenn's ear a lick. Glenn laughed. Mark then went over to Trish, tail wagging and head down a bit. She looked to Glenn for explanation.

"He just wants to be friendly, and to welcome you here. Give him a pat or touch on his side or the back of his neck, but don't get near his throat. Werewolves usually take offense to that." He said. She reached down tentatively and laid her hand into the thick, coarse, black fur. Mark was still as a stone until her tension eased. He then licked her arm a few times, and jumped off the porch and trotted into the sunshine on the lawn, only to start rolling. "See, simple as that." Glenn told Trish.

"How do you know that's Mark?" She asked.

"Hey, Mark, come here." The wolf stood up, shaking grass and dust from his coat. He sat on his haunches and tilted his head to the side a bit. "I don't care if it's your house. Anyway, that means you're the host then. Be hostly." Glenn said as if responding to something the animal had said. Trish would swear that the wolf rolled its eyes, but then trotted up towards the house. Glenn had regained his feet and was moving Trish's bags inside. If not for his lolling tongue and happy expression the wolf would have been an intimidating sight. She still didn't really know what to make of him, but when he butted his head against her leg, she moved inside the house.

They congregated in the kitchen, and the somewhat unsteady, but trusting Trish was seated at the table. Glenn sat beside her, and took one of her well-manicured hands into his, and placed his other hand in Mark's fur, just behind his ear. "Just relax." He said and breathed deep. Trish found herself suddenly in a place that wasn't the kitchen she'd been in.

"Oh fuck... Warn me next time you're going to pull me into your head, Glenn." A male voice that wasn't Glenn said. Trish whirled around and was met with the solid mass of a man's chest that also didn't belong to Glenn. "Been a long time, Trish. Nice to see you again." She looked up and saw Mark in full on charm mode.

"Hi Taker" She squeaked. She'd forgotten his size. Sure, Glenn was just as big, but he wasn't intimidating to her. Not anymore anyways...

"Call me Mark. I don't have much to do with that character anymore." He said. He was still as broad and tall as ever, but there was a humble look on his face. Any and all of the prideful presence that she'd seen him exude was gone.

"Uh, sure." Glenn appeared to Trish's right and she gravitated towards him. "Where are we?" She asked him.

"My head... It's where you can see and hear Mark as you knew him to be."

"What happened to you, Mark?" She asked, hanging close to Glenn, but looking at Mark.

"A spell... A curse. Take your pick. That's what happened." Mark said and shrugged.

"Who did it?" She asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He replied.

"I'm starting to believe a lot of things I questioned before." She said. Mark smirked, but said nothing in reply. He looked down at his hands and fingers.

"Hey, thumbs. I remember these." He commented and laughed at his own joke.

"Seriously, Mark, who did this to you?" Trish persisted.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked, clearly not wanting to answer yet.

"I don't know... Get some justice for you maybe."

"Honey, I'm an unregistered lycanthrope. I have no rights under the law... Whatever was done to me was completely legal, because I rejected whatever rights registration offered me."

"So get registered." She said.

"They won't register what looks like an overgrown, but ordinary wolf. From what I've read before all this went down, in this form, my DNA will show minor anomalies from a natural wolf. At best, they'd think I was genetically manipulated to run experiments on." Mark explained.

"Oh shit." Trish said softly, her voice teeming with genuine compassion. "Is there anything we can do?"

"You believe me. That's better then most." Mark said, and looked away.

"Mark, if you can get back to human form, life as a registered wolf doesn't seem to be all that bad." Glenn offered. "You've already lost the job with Vince anyways." Mark put his thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose.

"Aside from having to live out my life tied down to one geographic area like a prisoner, we're getting way ahead of ourselves here. I'm still all furry, and unless we get a miracle, I'm going to be this way for a long while yet." That silenced them. He removed his hand. "Hey, are you hungry? I should have a whack of stuff in the freezer if it isn't all crystallized for the barbeque."

"Hey, Mark, are you avoiding the larger issue?" Glenn asked in same tone that Mark had.

"Yes, I am. Because at this moment, the issue... is not an issue. I am this for now. I have to be Zen about it, be in the moment, or go fucking crazy. So, can we stop talking about this so I don't loose it?" More silence. "Thank you... Look, I don't mean to sound angry or depressed."

"But you are Mark. Not without justification of course. You can't lie to me. I can feel it." Glenn put a hand on Mark's shoulder, Glenn's mind creating the illusion of touch to comfort Mark. "You're used to being in complete control of yourself. It's not surprising that you feel this way. You can't hide it, no matter how much bravado you put up, so don't feel you have to try."

"You're a good brother, you know that?" Mark said finally.

"Yeah, I know. I had a pretty good teacher. You actually hungry?"

"Famished for some reason. I haven't done much today."

"Well, you have been out of it and running around a lot." Glenn reasoned.

"Ah, that explains it then."

"Out of it?" Trish asked.

"Loosing out to the wolf. I'm having spots where my human consciousness lets go and the wolf takes over. Side effect of this much time in animal form, I guess. Apparently though, I'm rather pleasant to be around during those times, so there's no danger to you." Mark said.

"He's a happy puppy." Glenn quipped.

"I retract my statement about you being a good brother." Mark replied. Glenn ignored him.

"Hey, would you two want a connection set up between you? That way I don't have to translate everything Mark says."

"Uh, that's the lady's choice entirely. I wouldn't be surprised if she was off put at the idea of her potential brother-in-law's voice piped directly into her head." Mark said.

"You're lonely aren't you, Mark?" Trish asked; her voice and expression still soft and compassionate.

"I'll be honest with you, yes, I really am. I... I could go find a pack, and maybe have the companionship I need, but then I'd have to fight for alpha, and then I'd have to commit to them. I just don't see the point when I already have a family... Such as it is." He said, giving a small smile to Glenn.

"Do it, Glenn." Trish urged.

"Pardon?" Mark had an eyebrow raised. Trish shrugged.

"If only to hear such precise turn of phrase and five dollar words being pronounced in a Texan accent, it'll be worth it." She said and smiled. Mark laughed.

"He always was a bit of a nerd." Glenn commented.

"Uh, excuse me? At least I didn't carry my C-3P0 figure around absolutely everywhere, only to get if confiscated in Sunday school." Mark said. He had a wry grin on his face.

"You told!" Glenn made the motion to start beating on Mark, the punishment for revealing a boyhood source trauma. However, the two just ended up laughing about it. It was deep, rolling laughter, and Trish thought that for once, their turbulent past was forgotten for a brief moment. She herself had forgotten that these two would have had several years of relatively normal childhood.

The next moment found Trish seated back at the kitchen table with a bit of a cramp in her leg from being so still. _"Those that dream by night in the dusty recess of their minds, awake in the day to find that all was vanity." _Mark's 'voice' seemed a gentle presence in Trish's mind. She smiled at the wolf and reached down to touch him, which he leaned into. Glenn was already on his feet and rooting through Mark's upright freezer.

"Geez, Mark, you got anything other then meat in here?"

_"How about you try the garden?" _Mark's tone was amused. _"I'm sure that under the weeds, which I obviously haven't been around to pull, there will be all manner of root vegetables waiting. Maybe there will be some greens that haven't gone bitter yet to make a salad."_ Trish laughed suddenly and loudly.

"Wait, the guy who played up death, doom and gloom for a decade... is trying to tell me that he keeps a garden?" She asked.

"A rather extensive one, actually." Glenn reminded himself. He now wondered why Mark hadn't really made mention of it since they'd come here. Mark seemed to be avoiding it now that he thought about it.

_"It's one of the few relationships I could maintain easily. Come on, Trish, let's ruin your manicure."_ Mark said, and headed for the patio door.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Characters you recognize are not mine. I just like them.

* * *

Chapter 8 Cotton Jenny

Trish hadn't really looked out the sliding doors that led to the deck yet, but was amazed at what she saw when she did. Between the back of the house and the out buildings was a sea of blooms and green. It had to cover over half an acre. She was quickly becoming charmed by Mark. Up until when he had come rolling into backstage in jeans and riding that Titan motorcycle, she had been weirded out by The Undertaker. After that, she'd found him rather sexy. Her relationship with Glenn was a sure thing though, and she partially had Mark to thank for it. Glenn's scarring being healed had given him the confidence to pursue her. Mark had done that.

She'd been impressed with Mark's devotion to his brother when she'd been told of the long hours and effort he'd put into helping Glenn. Now, here was another side of him yet again. The wolf trotted over mulched rows of the vegetable section with his nose to the ground. He stopped and tore away at what seemed just another overgrown section to her. _"Lovely Trish, would you be a dear, and bring me that garden fork and basket under the deck?"_

"Sure" She arrived to find that his industrious paws had unearthed a row of carrots, radishes, and a few new potatoes.

_"I think there are other things if you want 'em. I should have some salad greens left as well."_

"Okay." Mark gave her a few pointers on how to properly uproot several things and answered her questions about the various blooming plants he had as well. He was glad of her acceptance of all the crazy bullshit in his and Glenn's lives. It just seemed to follow them around no matter what they did. Now that she could communicate with Mark, any reservations about hanging out with an enormous predatory animal dropped away. Mark wouldn't admit to anyone how good it felt to talk to a witty, beautiful woman again. He discovered she loved plants, but knew precious little about them. "We had a yard the size of a postage stamp growing up in Toronto."

He told her to borrow whatever books on the topic that caught her interest from his library. "Where do you get all the time to read?" She asked wistfully.

_"Where ever I could find it. I used to always have at least three different books on the go at any given time. It was a great way to kill time when I was traveling. I haven't been much for reading lately though."_ Mark said.

"Been busy?" Trish asked, with impish eyes.

_"No patience for it... And the pages are hard to turn."_ Mark explained. Trish's expression fell, but not much. She reached out and scratched just behind his ear.

"Well, if you want anything read to you, I'll do it." She offered.

_"I appreciate the sentiment. Even if it makes me feel a bit juvenile."_ Mark said, his mouth falling open in a canine smile, as he panted in the afternoon heat.

"You like that?" She asked.

_"You just found my favourite spot to be scratched, Miss Trish."_ He said.

"I'll just have to remember that when you get back to looking human again." She said. She then watched the wolf make an impossible expression for a true canine as he rolled his eyes. He sent no thought back to her, but gave her a nudge and made for the patio door.

They went back into the house, and Mark seemed to be enjoying himself, even though he had to sit on the sidelines during meal prep. He eventually slipped back outside and sat on the deck, surveying his almost forgotten garden. It was in dire need of weeding despite the 'natural' state he kept it in. The roses needed deadheading and everything needed pruning or fertilizing. Still, it was his garden and his home, and that small thing made him feel as normal as he had since the start of this. He was on his own turf, his own territory. The garden had been a therapy as he'd left his former self and changed into werewolf. He'd taken the ground that had been the setting of many dark rituals and ill feelings, and created something that had healed him, as much as it had healed the evil tainted ground. It had been embracing life, embracing his wolf self.

Glenn appeared with a covered plate and utensils, and started the barbeque with a snap of his fingers. Mark looked at him, but returned his gaze to his neglected garden.

"Mark?" Glenn asked.

_"Yes?"_ Mark's mental voice was quiet and calm.

"Oh, you are in there. Your mind was just so quiet I thought you were gone again." Glenn brought the lid of the barbeque down to let it heat up, and then leaned on the railing of the deck, overlooking the garden.

_"It needs work." _Mark said.

"What does? The garden?" Glenn asked.

_"Yes"_

"I can get some extended time, you just tell me what you want done."

_"It's not the same."_ Mark said, and Glenn watched Mark's chest and sides expand and contract as he let out a deep sigh.

"You want to do it for yourself?"

_"Precisely"_

"We'll get you human again Mark... Or at least your ability to look that way." Glenn heard Mark's inner chuckle.

As the sun set and darkness fell, Mark was watching a movie with the happy couple. A sudden rush of energy hit him and he couldn't keep still. It started with a twitch in his tail and ears. Soon he was up and pacing the room. He came to a halt between the couch and television. _"Glenn, what's the date today?"_ He asked quickly. Glenn could feel his building mental distress.

"August 19th" Glenn answered. "Why?"

_"Shit, with all this time I've been loosing I forgot. It's the full moon tonight." _Mark said, and Glenn saw him starting to tremble.

"But you said you were cursed to this form only." Glenn said.

_"And I have been... But I'm certainly feeling the moon tonight... Jesus..."_ Mark gave his head a shake. _"I gotta get outside."_ He staggered towards the stairs. Glenn was beside him in an instant. Mark felt his weight being lifted up into his brother's arms, up the stairs to the kitchen, out the door and into the garden. His garden. He was set down in the dew dampened grass and he rolled around on the ground. He looked up and saw a full moon on the rise, and it called to him. There was a barrier, and he fought with everything he had against whatever held him back. He kept on looking at the moon like it was the most beautiful woman in the world. He couldn't pull his eyes away. He was in love and he would do as asked.

A damn broke in his mind and he started to shift. His body grew to the five or six hundred pound plus man wolf form slowly. It was like picking a scab: painful, yet satisfying. Bones popped and rearranged themselves, his skin stretched and broke in places where it couldn't keep up with the shift, and blood spurted here and there. Muscles tore and rebuilt themselves in seconds. He lay on the ground a long time after he knew it was finished. He was sore and unused to the change, but soon his chest vibrated with inner laughter. He got to his feet, his hind feet, and stood upright for the first time in months. He threw his head back and howled, long, deep and loud.

He then turned to face Glenn and Trish standing about ten feet away. Glenn had an arm around her, and Mark could smell her fear. _"I'm still in here, Trish. I only go wild when I let myself." _Mark projected to her. She put an amazed hand to her mouth.

"I-I... I'm sorry, I've just never seen anything like that... Are you okay?" She said.

"Ya gotta admit it is kinda gross." Glenn reasoned.

_"I'm fine, Trish. I'm not going to hurt you or anybody else." _Mark's ears and head went down a little. He was trying to show her that he didn't mean to be threatening to her at all. He just hoped she would understand that.

"Yeah, you get past the teeth and claws and he's a teddy bear." Glenn cracked.

_"Not helping"_ Mark said, his ears perking up and his brow furrowing. Glenn started laughing. _"I promise you Trish, all I ever bite is my food."_

"I'm not food am I?" Trish asked.

_"Naw, darlin'. I don't like to eat the cute things. It just screams bad karma."_ Mark said, his voice filled with good humour. She sputtered with nervous laughter. _"If you can't handle this, I won't be offended."_

"No... No, I mean... I'll be okay Mark." She said, getting a hold of herself.

Glenn led Trish inside after that, leaving Mark to enjoy this new development as he wished. Mark took a look around, and before letting himself run into the darkness, he made his way to his rose bushes.

Mark's hopes were dashed when the sun rose above the horizon. His body shrank back down to all fours and the furry, but recognizable hands became paws once more. He slunk back to the house, exhausted, frustrated, and depressed. Glenn opened the door for him with a disappointed look on his face. "I'm so sorry, Mark." He said quietly.

_"Yeah, me too."_ Mark grumbled and went straight to the lower level of the house without eating or saying anything else. Glenn let him go, knowing when not to piss off a two hundred pound wolf. Looking out the sliding glass door, he smiled sadly. The garden was well on its way to recovery, weeded and pruned with a careful hand. He found it sad that Mark didn't feel any of that either. A partial shift had to be a glimmer of hope.

Trish woke Mark. He'd curled up on the couch that faced the television and fallen asleep. "Mark wake up, you're having a bad dream... Wake up!" Mark's eyes flew open and he found himself breathing heavy and his heart was racing. He looked around wildly until his eyes settled on Trish. "You sounded like you were in pain. You were yowling. Glenn's out right now, I didn't know what to do." Mark looked around himself and took a deep breath. Trish had her hands in his fur, one behind his ear, and another on his shoulder. Clearly she'd been coached by Glenn where the neutral zones that she could touch were.

_"It's alright. Thanks for waking me up. Sorry if I scared you."_ Mark assured her. He licked at her arm that was within reach. Trish smiled at this action, wondering briefly where the wolf's mind ended and the man's began.

"No, you didn't. I was really worried about you. Do you always have bad dreams?" She asked, knowing that Glenn would need her to be cool with Mark in this more fragile state.

_"Since I was fifteen years old." _Mark admitted.

"What happened when you were fifteen?" Trish asked.

_"My world burned down in front of me."_ Mark said. Trish had never heard his voice so introspective before.

"The fire... Glenn doesn't talk about it." Trish said, trying to match Mark's quiet mood.

_"No, I suppose he wouldn't."_

"What really happened? Did you start it?"

_"Truth?"_ Mark asked.

"Truth" Trish stated.

_"No. I didn't do it. I got blamed for it. I still feel guilty about it, about not being there in time, but I didn't do it. I was out, trying to work some rudimentary spell. My father's apprentice was a smoker, and had a habit of a midnight cigarette. When he stayed on the premises on cool nights he used to use the embalming room. The chemicals used to cover the smell. As you know already, they are also highly flammable."_ Mark explained.

"Jesus... What kind of moron would do that?"

_"The only moron I know that may be able to get me out of this in the next decade."_

"Who?" She asked, thoroughly riveted with finally having some light shed on Glenn and Mark's past.

_"Paul, honey. Paul."_ Mark asked.

"So why aren't you with him now?"

_"Because Glenn has a lot of bad associations when it comes to Paul... Which are perfectly based in reality, I assure you. I don't blame Glenn for not wanting anything to do with the man. Also, I healed Glenn, so he might be looking to return the favour and help me on his own." _

"Well, I could take you." Trish offered.

_"No. Flat out no. Glenn and mine's relationship is shaky at best. He would not appreciate what he would perceive as me manipulating you into doing it. I used to do a lot of that you know. It doesn't work out so well in the long run. Besides, any extended time spent around Paul can cause most people to go more then a little weird. Especially if they don't have the mental defenses to ward him off and keep him in his place. I need Glenn for that now. I may be going a little crazy in here, but I haven't taken complete leave of my good sense. I'm not stupid enough to get within a hundred miles of Paul without the proper measures in place."_

"Is that dumpy little guy really capable of inducing such wariness in two of the toughest men I've ever met?" She asked, trying to smother laughter. What little she'd seen of Paul, she hadn't been impressed by, and was amused that Mark and Glenn would go to such extremes to be careful of him.

_"And then some. His power base isn't as large as mine was or Glenn's is... But he knows how to use it to the best of his advantage. He's the bastard son of Wiley Coyote and Foghorn Leghorn. If he can't catch you up in a baited trap, he'll just roll over you instead. He doesn't care how he accomplishes it either. I know that because I used to be just like him." _

"And you figure he's the only one who can help you?" Trish asked. She had so many other questions but couldn't find the words to ask them.

_"I don't know anybody else with the resources he's got... He's got a book on everything. Not to mention all the supplies around to work a spell." _Mark said.

"You're sure I can't bring you?"

_"Positive. I just have to convince Glenn on my own."_

"Well, in the meantime, are you hungry? That's one thing I can do for you."

_"I'd be ever so grateful."_ Mark said. Trish gave him an extra pat, and he licked at her arm again before trotting beside her to the kitchen.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Characters you recognize are not mine. I just like them.

* * *

Chapter 9 Long Way Home

Glenn returned to the ranch with another week off claiming the need for emergency dental work, and the need for Trish to nursemaid him. He also brought groceries and other needed items including more beer. He found his girlfriend and werewolf brother on the back deck, soaking up the last of the day's sunshine. Trish was seated on a lounge chair, reading a book, but had her bare feet sunk into the red-black fur of Mark's side and chest. Mark was sprawled, tongue lolling out on the wood of the deck. His eyes were closed and he twitched here and there. Mostly his paws showed signs of activity. Trish brought her index finger to her lips when she saw Glenn.

"Shh, he's dreaming... And I think it's a good one for once." She whispered. Glenn concluded that Mark must have told her of his perennially bad sleeping schedule. He stepped back inside and got drinks for the two of them. Trish accepted the iced tea with her usual dazzling smile. "He's kind of cute like this." She observed.

"Oh don't tell him that. We'll never hear the end of it." Glenn replied. Mark slept for another full hour peacefully. As peacefully as Glenn had ever seen him sleep anyway. Perhaps it was because he was home, or simply the fact that he wasn't alone. Trish's presence in the house seemed to at least have him interested in things, even if it was only temporary. It all helped.

Mark awoke slowly, first cracking one eyelid, and then the other. He licked his chops and yawned, and then licked his chops again. Trish rubbed her feet against him a bit and he let out a contented sigh. He rolled closer to her and she rubbed her feet against him more vigorously. He licked at her ankles a few times, and then spotted Glenn seated on the steps leading down into the garden. He stretched lazily and then got to his feet. He walked over and then right into Glenn, butting his head against him in a show of affection. Glenn raised his hands to fur and returned the gesture. "Hey Mark. Having fun cuddling with my girlfriend?" He teased, his grin impish.

_"Whole new meaning to the term foot massage."_ He replied. Trish laughed out loud.

"You guys are terrible. Is nothing sacred or merely platonic?" She then watched as man and wolf considered each other, and then Trish would swear that when they looked back at her, they had the exact same sardonic grin... If that were possible. "Oh never mind... Freaks."

_"Freaks rule."_ Mark commented and Glenn burst out laughing. Hearing Mark utter his tag line in a dry as good red wine tone was absolutely hilarious. Mark butted in to him again, and licked him a couple of times. Glenn didn't protest. Maybe this was healthy for him in the long run. The only time Glenn usually allowed himself to be touched was in the ring with an opponent, or in bed with a lover. He was starting to find casual touch was not nearly as invasive as before. Touch had been such a loaded thing in his mind when he was scarred, and now those walls were slowly coming down because of Mark's need to be physically close to feel connected to those around him. Trish was probably over there thinking the same thing as he thought about it. No telepathy, just her intelligence and women's intuition. She was a smart lady. That's why she turned him on so much.

"So Mark, what were you dreaming about?" Trish asked. He looked at her.

_"Walking through every major gallery in Manhattan and not being in violation of a leash law... On my own two feet."_ He said. Glenn sighed suddenly, and his hands stopped moving in Mark's fur.

"Please don't make me, Mark." He said softly. Mark looked back to him. "I hate him so much."

_"Glenn, I beg you, it's the only way. I'm not sure how much longer I can stay sane like this. I'm not sure I am now. Please, Glenn, if you love me..."_ He hated to ask so pathetically. But he truly felt that Paul was his only realistic chance he had out of this. Glenn sat in silence, his hands resting in fur, but not moving for a long time. Mark had never said the word love in context with him ever before. Glenn thought he had come to love his brother, but he wasn't sure if that was enough to face his former captor once more.

The look in those amber eyes said it all. Mark was a prisoner himself now, and Glenn could help free him. It just involved Paul, and that was plenty to make Glenn consider all of his options. He briefly touched Mark's mind with his, and found it open for him. Mark trusted him completely, and though he would have a hell of a time ever saying it directly, did love Glenn. Glenn also felt that Mark had no other desire but to regain control of his body and protect his pack. There was no burning need for vengeance or any hidden agenda. He just wanted his life back.

"All right, Mark. I'll take you. If you think it's the only way."

Glenn barely had the sentence out of his mouth when Mark, unable to contain himself, jumped at Glenn, and sent them tumbling down the steps. Mark made sure to take the worst of the fall, but also pulled a Dino and landed on top of Glenn, licking his face. Trish couldn't help but laugh at Mark's antics. If he did get his human form back, the physical and social boundaries were going to be hard to re-establish.

"Hey, get off. I have one condition." Mark backed off and was willing to accept up to and including a life of servitude to Glenn. He needed his body to be his own again. "As soon as it's possible, you have got to get yourself registered. There is no fucking around with this anymore. People know who you are, and what you are. You've seen the consequences that you are open to... I can't loose you again, especially over such a small, stupid grudge. Either we're a family, or we're not... I can't handle the thought that someone could take you and use your skin as a rug. You register, or I walk away."

_"All right."_ Mark said simply. Glenn had expected some backlash or perfectly valid reason not to do it. But instead Mark just nodded his head in agreement. _"As soon as I can walk in to a registry office and be recognized, I'll do it. I'll even take you with me."_

"Thank you, Mark. That takes a lot of worry off my mind."

Glenn usually tried to avoid Louisiana. Only because that was where Paul spent most of his time, usually gamboling, or leading others in his own particular brands of magick and sorcery. New Orleans was like a second skin for Paul, and the French Quarter his playground after nightfall.

Glenn had never been fond of the city. It was all like an over made up whore to him, tacky and more to be pitied then despised really. These days it was Disneyland for modern day occultists and vampire fans. The vampires had stayed though, because of all the fresh, abundant, and more often then not willing meals walking around.

Maybe it was the opulence of the place that bothered Glenn. Appearance was everything here. Glenn had spent the better part of his life hiding his. Ah, that was the rub. Of course the irony of him dating a beautiful woman was not lost on him. But as a telepathic, he had to love a mind in order to love at all... And he certainly loved Trish's mind.

He stopped Mark's big Chevy truck in front of a large home with a well manicured if somewhat boring front lawn. It was pathetic really, in comparison to the Eden that Mark had created at his home. Mark got to his feet in the back of the extended cab, eager, but patient enough to wait until Trish got out and opened the door for him. He jumped down to the hot sidewalk and stretched out his stiffness.

"Grandpa! Look!" Mark turned to see a young black girl, about four or five, walking hand in had with her grandfather about five yards away. "Can I pet him?"

"He's awful big Anna. I'm not sure it's safe." He said to her.

"He's actually really great with kids." Trish said to them, and knelt down beside Mark. Mark gave her a long-suffering look. "In fact he used to escort a bunch of kids to parks and looked out for them."

"Can I pet him?" Anna asked eagerly.

"If your grandpa says you can." Trish said, and looked up at the elderly man, who smiled and indulged the girl. He nodded and Anna stepped closer to Mark. "He likes to be scratched right here the best." Trish pointed to a spot just below the wolf's ear. The girl's small fingers sank into his fur, and Mark couldn't help but let his mouth fall open panting, enjoying the contact, and completely won over by the child.

_"Hey Mark, how does my girlfriend know where you like to be scratched best?"_ Glenn asked, smirking.

_"Simple, she asked."_ Mark said, but only had eyes for the girl. He nosed at her, and licked her cheek.

"And he's ticklish right here." Trish gave Mark a gentle poke right where his foreleg met up with his body. He yelped a bit, and then pranced behind Anna for 'protection'. The girl laughed and was soon hanging off of him like the circus kids had. Mark lapped up the attention.

_"This just might be the cure for cancer, I think."_ Trish heard him think. Soon the little girl's grandpa had them on their way again. Trish also noticed Mark nosing after her, and the look of absolute peacefulness in his eyes. A shadow fell over Mark, and he looked for its source, which came from the concrete walk up to the house.

"Well, how the mighty have fallen." A caustic voice said.

... TBC... Hang with me. It'll all come together...


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Characters you recognize aren't mine. I just like them.

* * *

Chapter 10 - If You Got It

Mark turned his head to see Paul standing at the gate to the garden. He made no comment after giving him a long hard glare, and then looked to where the girl had gone, and found she was waving at him. He gave a short bark. _"Not fallen, Paul. Merely rearranged."_

"Whatever you call it... Let's go inside and have a look at you." He replied. Mark followed when Paul opened the gate and walked towards the house. Glenn had much more trepidation when he finally got his feet to move, but was encouraged by Trish at his side. "This is a hell of a curse on you." Paul said when they were in the library. "It's very intricate." He was flipping through a leather bound volume. The old leather was black and cracked and was gold embossed on the spine. "I should be able to lift it... But I'm not sure that the effects will automatically reverse themselves. Ah, here we go." He set the book down on a table by a window, picked up a pen and paper, and began to make notes. "Remember when you held the world in the palm of your hand, Mark?"

_"Remember when I was pretty much universally hated and mistrusted by those around me?"_ Mark countered. It seemed that he'd practiced that line. It didn't make it any less relevant though. Paul let Mark's retort go, and kept jotting notes. Glenn was on edge. This wasn't the Paul that Glenn remembered it seemed. Perhaps the conniving businessman had just become more subtle about his deals. Glenn also knew that Mark and Paul related much differently then he and Paul did. Paul never saw Mark as someone to be manipulated or controlled. Mark simply had too much power. However, if he could do something for Mark, there would be payment due. What he would ask for was a mystery, but Glenn knew that Paul would already have something in mind.

Glenn noticed Paul squinting at the page, and then went for reading glasses that were on the table. That struck Glenn as odd. He could see grey forming at Paul's temples as well. He wheezed a bit when he breathed in... He was aging. That unsettled Glenn. He was starting to see the weakness in someone who had dominated him for years. He started to realize that if necessary, he could easily take Paul out. It was nothing if not disorienting. Mark had long insisted that Glenn had all the power to destroy Paul easily, but he'd refused to truly believe it... Until now that is. He fixed Paul with a determined glare and straightened up. When Paul spoke again, Glenn didn't flinch like he used to.

"From what I can determine, the few times this curse has been set before, the victim has very quickly gone mad or become a total wolf. They are also usually killed off fairly quickly. So you are an exception to the rule... Not surprising really, you've always had to do things your own way."

_"What can you do for it?"_ Mark's voice was showing his frustration and impatience.

"Like I said, I can lift the curse, but I'm not sure I can reverse the effects. The best I can promise right now is a temporary humour every so often to at least give you your human appearance... Glenn said on the phone that you shifted with the last full moon. That may be a hope that your body is slowly regenerating itself, and that the power of the curse is waning."

_"How much?"_ Mark asked, no longer one for pretenses or haggling.

"To lift the curse? No charge. We had some good times didn't we Mark? That is the least I can do for you. A humour, especially one that drastic, and providing you with a voice others can hear, that is extensive work. You know that." Paul said, with a casual salesman's air about him.

_"How much?"_ Mark repeated.

"A small sample of werewolf venom. For study purposes only. I've heard it has some remarkable properties, and since the biologists can't figure out what makes a werewolf with science, I'd like to look for a preternatural solution instead. If I were to discover it, I could be a very wealthy man."

_"So they can find a cure for the likes of me?"_ Mark growled audibly to accompany his thought.

"No Mark. A cure for the likes of you will never be found, werewolf or no." Paul remarked and smiled at his own joke. "If the scientists can't find a scientific cause, then they're certainly not going to find a cure are they? I could probably just lift the werewolf out of your system by some incredibly painful spell, but you're stubborn and have gotten to, dare I say, like what you are now. So I never bothered suggesting it, because even if I did, you'd still be cursed to this form."

_"Being turned werewolf made me turn myself into a somewhat decent excuse for a human being. I'll stop being a werewolf when I stop breathing."_

"I realize that now... I have to prepare some things for this procedure. Make yourselves comfortable. Glenn, I assume you still know where things are?" Glenn nodded slowly, unblinking, his eyes fixed on Paul. He wasn't afraid anymore. He could take care of Paul, one way or another.

Paul left the library and Mark sat on his haunches between Trish and Glenn. Glenn brought a hand down between pointed wolf ears almost absently, and patted before leaving it to rest like weight. Mark moved, and Glenn's hand slid off, to which Mark rubbed against it. _"I'll have to give him the venom."_ Mark said eventually.

"Why?" Trish asked.

_"So I can walk into a registry office and be recognized. I might have a fighting chance of getting some real world help then."_

"You're serious about registration?" Glenn asked.

_"You asked me to... And I've got a suspicion that you might be right about it."_ Mark said. His voice still had that humbleness Trish had heard before.

"What will he do with the venom anyway?" It was Trish again.

_"I think he was being honest. To find the formula for werewolf would make him a rich man if he sold that information to the right people. He doesn't have Glenn or I to sap off of anymore, and while he's got a decent list of people that will pay for his services, he's always been looking for that big pay off."_

They went to the back patio and sat in the shade. Mark however, lay in the sun on the lawn, panting but enjoying the heat. It was over an hour before Paul retrieved them. He tried to not look uncomfortable when he found Glenn and Mark having a play fight, and both of them laughing. Glenn out loud and Mark in his mind. Glenn's good mood was immediately cut short when they were led down to a basement room. He was well past this, he knew that, but he was still restless being in any basement.

Incense burned, candles were lit, various talismans and books were set up. Mark sat in the centre of the room. "It may not be safe for the lady to be here." Paul warned.

"She stays. I'll protect her." Glenn said confidently.

"Very well." Paul then started reading from the book he'd pulled from the library shelf. The words were foreign to Trish and Glenn, and possibly Mark himself as he made no indication that he knew what was being said. Soon Mark's muscles were tensed and contorted until he was lying on his side, with his spine and tail forming a backwards C, as if in full rigor mortis. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he frothed at the mouth. Glenn pulled Trish close to him. The scene was quite grotesque actually. It didn't get any better when the convulsing started. Mark vomited up what little he had eaten that morning onto the floor. With the vomit came a ball of purple light. It circled Mark a few times, and Glenn put up a mental defense for himself, Trish, and Mark. Paul's voice got loud and insistent, as he pointed to a stone on a low table beside him. The light floated over and onto the stone, and seemed to be absorbed by it. Paul then picked up a ball peen hammer and pounded it until it was dust.

Mark was semi-conscious and rolling, trying to get to his feet. He seemed to be completely out of it. When he did get to his feet, he fell when he tried to take a step. He gave his head a shake but was reeling. Trish broke from Glenn's arms and went to the delirious wolf. She put her hands in the fur on the sides of his face. He looked at her, but his eyes weren't focusing. "Shh, take it easy Mark. You're okay. Glenn's here. I'm here. Just calm down, we'll take care of you." She said to him. He quieted down and his struggles stopped. Glenn moved in and took the massive wolf up into his arms.

"He'll be alright in a day or two." Paul assured. "Just let him rest and give him plenty of water. Come back if he still wants that humour." Glenn grunted, and couldn't head for the stairs quickly enough, Trish leading the way back to the truck.

They found a hotel that took 'pets' if you gave the manager enough money, and got a suite. Mark was brought in by a side door, able to walk on his own, but just barely. He kept on bumping into Glenn's legs and leaned his weight on him in the elevator. Mark used the last of his energy to hop up on the couch once in the room and then passed out.

He slept for a full 48 hours, save for being woken up by Trish to have a drink of water every so often. Glenn was surprised by how caring Trish had become of Mark. Then again, Mark was always charming. Even when he hated everyone, many people were still attracted to the 'je ne sais quoi' he exuded. It was something that his older brother couldn't help, and Glenn didn't worry about his relationship with Trish. Neither Mark nor Trish was like that.

The wolf woke as if at the end of a fevered state. He staggered to his feet and tried to walk some of his senses into himself. He didn't feel especially different, other then the relief of the grogginess wearing off. He found Trish reading on the balcony of the suite, and nosed the door open and stepped out. "Well, you're looking better." She said to him cheerfully, and put down the book on perennials that she'd borrowed from his library.

_"Feeling a bit better... Not as depressed or something."_ Mark said, taking stock of himself.

"I'm sure being cursed is a real drag on your system. Have you tried to shift yet? That's the word you use for it right?" She asked.

_"Yes it is, and no I haven't. I've a feeling I'm at too low of an ebb to do it even if I knew I was able. Where's Glenn? I gotta get that humour."_

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

_"I told Glenn I'd register. I have to look like me to do so."_ Mark was looking off into the distance through the wrought iron bars of the balcony's guard rail.

"He went out. He said he'd be back soon, but nothing else."

_"He's probably just gone for a walk. He has to be alone every once in awhile."_

"I've noticed... You know, despite all the shit you've put each other through, you two are really devoted to one another. He sat with you most of last night." She said, and Mark could hear the smile in her voice.

_"I could smell him."_ Mark said.

"Well, are you hungry? You haven't eaten for a few days."

_"Yes, actually"_ He said, and smiled himself inwardly.

Glenn returned to the smell of room service and found a much more alert Mark eating. He sat in the sun and turned his head to Glenn. "You're redder." Glenn said, taking a close look.

_"Pardon?"_ Mark asked, swallowing part of steak sandwich.

"Your fur... It's getting lighter." Glenn said.

"Oh my gosh, you're right." Trish said, looking over the top of her book. She reached down and put her hand in the fur above his hip, and separating some of it. "It's really red under the top coat. Take a look." Glenn moved in and put a hand out, taking a look for himself.

"Must be a side effect. What colour was it before all of this?" Glenn asked.

"Not sure. I see in black and white when I'm wolfed out remember? And I usually only shift at night... Dark, that's all I know."

By late afternoon Mark's fur was copper coloured with a blonde, almost white underbelly. At his insistence, Glenn and Trish brought him back to Paul's home.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Characters you recognize aren't mine. I just like them.

Chapter 11 - I'll Be Alright

"Well would you look at that." Paul commented as Mark crossed the threshold of the house at a steady trot. Glenn and Trish followed behind him at slower pace. "Interesting results. Always a red-head eh Mark?"

_"I came for the humour, Paul."_

"I figured you would. I have everything prepared downstairs. It was a challenge to weave a voice into the spell, but I think it should work well."

Mark's payment of his venom was collected in dental clay and then carefully poured into a small glass beaker. Mark hoped that Paul's intentions, if not completely pure, at least weren't sadistic.

The spell started and Mark found himself shifting up to his half and half form. The shift was painless and soundless, which wasn't normal by any means, but Mark wasn't going to argue. When the humour of his human body manifested, it was constricting and uncomfortable. It was like trying to fit his size sixteen feet into a pair of size twelve shoes. It bound him in tightly, but when it was done, he looked human, complete with clothing. His vision was still in black and white, but when he saw Trish with a hand to her mouth and tears in her eyes, he smiled.

"How do I look?" He found himself asking, his deep voice projecting across the room.

"Great" Trish said, dabbing at her eyes.

"Hideous as ever." Glenn teased and found himself receiving a playful swat from Trish. Paul held up a mirror and Mark saw his own face looking back at him.

"Thank you Paul." Mark said. "How long do I have?" Paul held up a dried rose bud, wrinkled and blackened with age.

"Destroy this when you want the humour broken. Remember that to see and even touch, you will seem human... But it is conditional. Passionate emotions, rage, lust, et cetera, can break the humour. Hurry up and do whatever it is you need to do, Mark. Because I know you, and I know those emotions come easily to you, even if you don't show them. Good luck."

"Bye, Paul. Just don't fuck everything up for us werewolves with that venom okay?"

"Mark, believe it or not, I actually give a shit about you, and you know I would never do that. I might have done a lot of questionable things in the past, but I know better then to piss off an entire race of preternatural beings."

"Well then, I have nothing to worry about then." Mark said, and led Glenn and Trish out of the room.

Mark and Glenn walked into the Houston Lycanthrope Identification, Advocacy and Registration Services branch offices located deep in the heart of the city. It was snidely called LIARS by all non-registered lycanthropes, and affectionately so by all registered ones. Trish had gone back to work, but Glenn had somehow bargained for even more time off. The first thing Mark noticed was the smell of other lycanthropes. Hundreds of them had been through these doors.

Mark looked around and spotted a flyer with his picture on it, along with several others on a billboard that was headed with: "At large or missing:" It made him feel like a criminal. All things considered, the only thing he'd ever done wrong was gone to bed with the wrong woman... And even now he didn't regret it for a second. He went to the board and pulled the paper with his photo down from it. A receptionist approached him.

"Excuse me, sir, but you can't remove those." She said before he turned to look at her.

"I heard you were looking for me." He said, holding the picture up to his face. "I would've been in sooner... But I've not been myself lately."

"Oh my gosh... Well, I guess I lost that bet." She said before she really thought about it. She was a young woman with close cropped hair and a nose ring. She also had a great smile, Mark thought. He also laughed a bit at what she said.

"How much did you loose?" He inquired.

"Nothing I can't afford to." She said, relieved he was laughing.

"Good, I wouldn't want anyone put into destitution over me."

"So I assume you've come to register yourself then?"

"Yes, but I have a few rather complicated issues that I need to work out." He said. His voice was quiet, but the humour didn't allow him to blush as would have been his natural reaction.

"Well, I'll set you up with one of our case workers. They're all lycanthropes like you, sir... And they're here to help." She said, with a warm smile on her face.

"Thank you" Mark said, and he really meant it. It was exactly what he needed to hear at that moment.

"I'll go see if Jacqueline is available. I think that the two of you would get along well. Relax a minute, there's coffee on the table... And who's this with you?"

"Glenn, my brother"

"Oh right. He made quite the fuss in the media when you vanished. I'm glad to see you two found each other. I'll just be a moment." She said, and went off down the hall.

"She seems nice." Glenn said, trying to keep Mark positive about what was happening.

"You kicked up a media blitz for me? I didn't know that." Mark said.

"I didn't know what else to do. I nearly lost my job over it... But Vince couldn't fire me without incriminating himself or seeming to be discriminatory against lycanthropes and their families. The company arranged it that your firing looked like it had taken place before your lycanthropy was discovered." Glenn said. He could tell that Mark was genuinely surprised by this, that he was grateful that Glenn hadn't given up on him.

"Thanks, Glenn. It means a lot to know you didn't give up on me." He said softly.

"I missed you so much at first. I had a really hard time. I realized how dependent I was on you... But I then tried to start handling the world in the same manner you did. It's worked out okay so far." They saw the receptionist lead a striking black woman around the corner. She had a mane of hair in cornrows and beaded to match the business suit she was wearing. Glenn immediately saw Jacqueline and Mark size each other up. From the way they carried themselves, they screamed alpha, and demanded respect. They kept their shoulders back, chins parallel to the ground, and had intense, unblinking eyes. If you knew what to look for, one could see a tense moment, like when you introduce two dogs for the first time. It was a good introduction though, and both parties made the effort to be friendly and smiled at one another.

"Hello, sir. I'm Jacqueline Moore, please call me Jackie." She said. Her voice was confident and assured but friendly and warm as well.

"Call me Mark."

"Nice to meet you, Mark. This is your brother Glenn?"

"Yeah, it's cool that he's here right? I feel better with him around." Mark asked.

"Whatever makes you most comfortable. Come on in to my office, and we'll get started." Mark sat patiently while all the benefits of registration were explained to him. Jackie likened it to getting a social security card. He was quiet as he filled out the forms and got a bit nervous before he signed off.

"I've got something of a problem that you people should be aware of."

"And that is?" Jackie asked.

"Some months ago, when it became widely known what I was, I was abducted..." For the first time in his entire life, Mark then looked to Glenn to speak for him because he couldn't find the words.

"Mark was cursed to his wolf form. He's since had it lifted, but what you're looking at now is a magical humour that makes him appear and sound human." Glenn said as compassionately as he could. Mark stared at the floor with intensity as if some great tragedy was unfolding amongst the dust mites in the carpet. "He's still entrapped in his wolf body."

"How did this happen, Mark?" She asked. Glenn could feel that she believed what he said. She knew how strange this world could be. Mark raised his eyes and met hers, and he found his voice again.

"I was drugged and beaten within an inch of my life. They cut the tendons in my legs and threw me to the bottom of a dry well. While I was imprisoned there, they worked the curse on me. Before I was turned werewolf, I used to be very good at that kind of thing myself. I used it badly sometimes, but then I was bitten and the world changed overnight. It saved me I think. I would have sunk too far deep into my dark side if I hadn't been cut off from it when my mind went wolf... Anyways, I was in the process of getting my life together and things were pretty good. Then someone I worked with found out what I was. Someone with a small, petty grudge and enough money to put a curse like this together; figured that my life wasn't worth anything."

"How long have you been like this?" She asked.

"Ever since I disappeared, I guess."

"Almost a year now." Glenn added softly.

"So, long story short, I just wanted to make sure that you were aware of this before I made this all official like."

"All right. I appreciate your honesty." She said, and watched Mark carefully sign his name to the bottom of three different sheets of paper. Mark looked at Glenn when he was done.

"There, for you." Mark said.

"I know. Thank you." Glenn replied. "It means a lot to me that you'd do this."

"You're my brother. It's a small thing for your peace of mind."

"We may be able to help you, Mark." Jackie said. Mark looked at her, his expression very skeptical.

"Think so?" He almost didn't want to believe her. He was always the sort to hold his cards up close to his chest. His hope he held closest to him, rarely letting it see the light of day.

"The curse is lifted you said, correct?" She asked. Both men nodded. "It's the effects of the curse that are still with you then. It can be akin to a sickness if you think about it. Have you tried healing yourself?"

"Essentially, I'm a wolf with a human thought process now. I can't seem to access any of the powers I should have as a werewolf. I heal from wounds quickly, but my power to create healing, like my power to shift, just doesn't happen. I did get a partial shift out of the last full moon, so some of my abilities may be slowly returning, but I can't be sure."

"Mark, would you be willing to let other lycanthropes try and heal you?" Jackie asked.

"Pardon?" Mark was thrown by this.

"I can organize a group of talented healers and see what they can do for you. They might enjoy the challenge." She smiled warmly again as she spoke, and it did not go unnoticed by Glenn that Mark only had eyes for her at the moment.

"For me?" Mark asked.

"Of course, Mark. You're officially registered now. We're here to help you. I can't guarantee anything, but it's worth a try."

"I'd... I'd like to try." Mark's voice was little more then a murmer, still not quite sure how to react. The thought of getting back to normal was a bit much. His hope for it welled up uncontrollably in him. He closed his eyes and forced back tears. "Glenn, destroy the flower, the humour won't stand up much longer." He said suddenly.

"What? Why?" Glenn asked. He'd been so caught up in the quiet tenderness of the moment that he hadn't noticed Mark's mental state.

"You can feel it for yourself. It won't last." Mark said, and pulled his chair back from Jackie's desk a bit. Glenn reached out with his mind and felt Mark's rising hope, and also his discomfort with that emotion. He'd gotten used to denying it in order to keep his sanity. It was something he wanted to feel so badly, and couldn't deny it any longer. Glenn reached into his pocket and pulled out the dried bud, and crushed it in his hand.

The change back was violent and immediate. No sooner had Mark gotten off the chair then the humour pulled away and vanished, revealing the red wolf underneath it. Jackie stood up, and he looked at her. Glenn thought he still looked proud and maybe even noble. He also had eyes filled with hope. That hope washed over Glenn's psyche, leaving him feeling it as well. It practically lit up the room.

Jackie moved around the desk and went down on one knee. Glenn witnessed a formal werewolf greeting between the two. Mark rubbed his cheek along Jackie's, inhaling her scent. Mark knew that she was wereleopard as opposed to werewolf, but he appreciated the gesture. She dug her hands into his fur when it was done. "We'll do everything we can, Mark. I promise."

"He says thank you." Glenn translated automatically. Jackie looked up at him confused. "He's not the only freak in the gene pool." He explained.

"Oh, good to know. I can reach you two at the phone number listed on the forms?"

"That will be fine." Glenn said, and then stood and shook the woman's hand. He thanked her warmly. He then looked down at the wolf. "Come on fur face. Let's get some lunch." The wolf snapped his jaws at him, but Glenn just laughed it off. Mark took a long look at Jackie before he left the office, following Glenn.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Characters you recognize aren't mine. I just like them.

Chapter 12 - Crossroads

Glenn reluctantly had to go back to work for at least one Monday on threat of his job. Mark insisted as well that he go. _"Throw it in their faces that you're not going anywhere."_ Mark had said. Glenn left him with all kinds of food accessible, not that it mattered much.

A group of lycanthropes of various types showed up the morning after Glenn left. Mark greeted them, wary and nervous at first. He was hyper sensitive to the presence of others like him because he'd had so little to do with them. He was relieved when he saw Jackie get out of a little sports car and went right over to her. She accepted his gracious, friendly greeting. "Is your brother here?" She asked. Mark nodded no. "Well, can you show me where you're most comfortable in your home? We'll work there." Mark went into the house, and led the group into the library, and over by the desk that faced the window that over looked his garden. He sat by the desk, waiting patiently.

Set up started immediately and Mark was 'cleansed' for the ritual, from ear tips to paw prints. He gathered that it would be a more formal version of how he had healed his brother. There was a bear, two leopards (including Jackie), a few wolves and a lion. Mark minded his manners the best he knew how, and a bed of blankets and cushions was made for him. He settled into it, looking around nervous to let go of control to others. "You have to relax for this, Mark." Jackie said, and started to run her hands along his fur. She continued until Mark lay out on his side, contented by Jackie's touch.

The lycanthropes gathered around him and laid hands on him. It started slowly, but Mark felt pure power seeping into him. He realized only then how much power he'd lost, how much his strength had been sapped by the curse. Hanging onto his human mind had him hanging on by a thread. The warm hands on him felt wonderful. The only sounds that he registered were that of breathing and heartbeats from those around him. Soon he was in a comfortable trance like state. He stopped noticing the passage of time; he just absorbed what the healers had to offer him. He closed his eyes and relaxed completely.

The next thing he was aware of was Glenn's voice. "Holy shit... he's..."

"The strain on his mind to keep control has really worn away his physical strength. That's why he's so thin. It should all come back to him though." Jackie explained. "The power to last as long as he has is formidable. I don't know if I've met anyone stronger."

"He's always been that way. He healed me single-handedly."

"What did you have that needed to be healed?"

"Old burn scars over my back and face, down my arm and right side. They covered something like 60 of my body. I also had damaged vocal chords and he healed that as well."

"Well, if he's that good a healer, then I may have a job for him."

Mark took that as his cue and opened his eyes. Everything was in vivid colour. Jackie had lovely copper eye shadow on, and wore faded blue jeans and a crisp white blouse. "Hey" He said hoarsely. He looked around and found himself in his bedroom. His brother and caseworker were seated on either side of him on the bed.

"Hi Mark" Jackie said. "How are you feeling?"

"Still exhausted, but better then I was. Nice to have thumbs again." He replied. She smiled at him, and Glenn chuckled a bit.

"You want anything?" Glenn asked.

"Some water, maybe."

"I'll be right back." Glenn got up, his expression still full of concern. Mark held his shaky hand up. It was thin and boney. It looked ancient.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Your body was under so much strain to keep your mind together that you ate up much of your own power. Your healers are taking a break and calling in some reinforcements. You've been through a lot, Mark." He sat up slowly and by force of will alone. His body certainly didn't want to. A mirror on an antique dresser showed his face back to him. It was gaunt and colourless. It didn't have the wrinkles of an elderly face, rather the sick look of a cancer patient. He was certainly thin enough to be. His former muscle bound frame was showing ribs and spine through clearly. What he couldn't take his eyes off of though was the shock of white hair on his head. His beard and eyebrows were the same. Glenn returned with a tall glass of water, which Mark tried to take, but almost dropped when he couldn't make his hand grip it tight enough.

"It's okay Mark. Just drink, I got a hold of it." Glenn told him, and Mark didn't argue. He just drank down the water, and it seemed like the best tasting thing he'd ever had in his entire life.

"I feel like a ghost or something." Mark muttered when he was finished.

"Well, it was Hunter's intent to make you suffer. I should really light him up for that, but I figured you'd want a piece."

"You'll do no such thing." Mark said, finding his voice easier to use after the water. "I'm done with it." Glenn looked at this weakened version of his brother with utter confusion on his face.

"Mark, you can't deny what happened to you. You can't deny the power you wield. You can't run from this."

"I'm not Glenn. I'm done with vengeance. This is where vengeance got me. I refuse to take any more of my life up on Hunter. It's done and over with now, and so am I. I registered. I just want to live out my life in peace." Mark said looking at his rather pathetic reflection again. Glenn just sighed and sat back down on the bed. Mark leaned into him when he lay back down. Glenn knew that it would take a long time to reestablish proper social conduct in Mark... If it even could go back to normal... So he said nothing, and ran a hand over Mark's hair instead.

"If that's what you want." Glenn finally said.

"For now, yes it is." Mark replied softly. Glenn felt how much Mark was leaning on him, relying on him to be the strong one this time. Glenn was glad to do it. It made him believe that Mark was right, and they did need each other. He'd long been dependent on his older, more self-sufficient brother. Mark fell asleep soon after that, but Glenn stayed close for a long while.

"He's lucky to have you." Jackie said.

"I'm lucky to have him. He was the one who made us come together as a family, such as it is, not me. I admire him for that. He admitted he was wrong when we were both wrong, and then just started trusting me. He was persistent about it too." Glenn shifted and pulled the covers up and around Mark. "I've never seen him look frail before." He commented to Jackie.

"Well, he's come this far. He should be back in perfect health again soon."

"Still, it's not something one forgets easily."

That night Glenn woke to the sound of Mark yelling incoherently. He was having a nightmare and it was a bad one. The healers were being put up in hotels and Jackie had gone back to Houston for the night, so Glenn was left to take care of things. Glenn jumped out of bed and dashed to Mark's room from the one he'd been using. He got there and was able to hold Mark's weakened body down on the bed. Instead of waking him like he'd done in the past, he entered Mark's mind. He found himself in what hell must have looked like. The thing that stood out was a red wolf trying its foolhardy best to get into a burning house. Glenn immediately recognized the house as the funeral home that they'd spent their childhood in. He realized that this was an exaggeration of how Mark had seen the fire.

The wolf had taken to hurling himself against the door, to no effect. Glenn ran up the porch, the heat intense and choking. He pulled the wolf up from the floorboards and into his arms, then well away from the house. The wolf struggled, kicked, and yowled, but it didn't bite. "Mark, you have got to stop this." Glenn tried to reason. "You can't save them. You can't save me. It's just what happened... You can rebuild, hell you've been doing a damn good job of it in the last four years. But no matter what you do, that house will always burn to the ground. Always. I don't blame you for what happened. It's time to stop torturing yourself. Let go. Walk away."

The struggle stopped, but the wolf didn't stop whimpering or yowling. Soon they turned to deep mournful howls. Twenty odd years of grief came pouring out of him. They watched the grand old house burn and collapse in on itself. Then the scene changed and the memory became more as it happened, the fire and brimstone faded, and the upper class neighbourhood they'd lived in appeared. People came out of nowhere, along with fire trucks. Then the image of a tall, but skinny red-haired kid being held down by firefighters became visible last of all. He was inconsolable. Glenn had never seen this view of the fire, of his brother. He remembered that at one time, Mark had just been another kid and had felt all the pain of loosing his parents that Glenn had.

Mark knew he'd gotten Glenn back, and he knew that it was a damn miracle, but he was obsessed with that fire, and the course his life had taken after it. He rested his head on Glenn's shoulder, for once able to look away from his trauma. Glenn was here once again when Mark needed him. He was becoming downright reliable, and he was thankful to whatever deities were up there for that.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Characters you recognize aren't mine. They just won't stop talking in my head.

Chapter 13 - Don Quixote

Mark woke up gradually from a peaceful sleep. He was surrounded by his fellow lycanthropes. Their hands were all over his mostly naked body, but this didn't disturb him. He actually liked the contact and gave a happy sigh. He took stock and he felt... fine... He felt pretty fucking great really. He found himself laughing softly. "Thank you" Were the first words out of his mouth. His body and power were restored to him. He could feel all the strength in him once again. He could feel the power of the others around him. He was at ease with them now. They were there for his benefit.

The hands slowly started to remove themselves and Mark started to move around a bit. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. A stray lock showed it was red again. He was handed clothing and he dressed. He greeted the newcomer healers one by one and thanked them.

It was then he saw Glenn, Trish, and Jackie waiting by the door. He walked over on his bare feet to them. He kissed Trish's cheek, hugged his brother, and then swooped Jackie up into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth. Stiff at first, she quickly settled in to it, and kissed him back. He broke it off when everyone else in the room noticed and started whooping and cheering. Mark smiled at the woman in his arms. "I've wanted to do that for awhile now." He said.

"Feeling better?" She asked, smiling and laughing.

"Much" He replied, setting her on her feet but not letting her go, making his intentions very clear. He liked the little leopard. He liked her a lot. From the scent she gave off, she liked him back just as much. "Well, I believe a celebration is in order. Who's coming with me on the beer run?"

Very late into the night, Mark stole a few moments with Jackie alone in the garden. "This place is so beautiful." She said.

"Before I was turned, I hated everything. I mean everything. But being bitten brought out a change in me that I couldn't deny. After so long in the destruction business, I was enamoured of life again. Creating this garden was my way to express that."

"Is that the reason you don't want any action taken against this Hunter person? Your new found love of life, I mean."

"I suppose I just want to get on with my life. If Hunter tries anything else, I'll defend myself ruthlessly. But I won't waste my time on him if I don't have to."

"Well, that sort of brings up something I wanted to talk to you about." She said, leaning into his chest.

"And that would be?" He asked, smiling at her closeness.

"What do you plan on doing now? I assume you won't be going back to your public life."

"You assume right. This ranch, when fully operational makes me money enough. I was wrestling for fun really, before all this happened. I guess I'm ranching full time now."

"I was wondering if you might have another calling, Mark." Her suggestion was made quietly.

"And that would be?" He asked for a second time, slightly amused.

"Your brother showed me photos of himself both before and after you healed him. It's miraculous that you can heal injuries that extensive and old. You are healer, and a gifted one, as powerful, and possibly more so then those that healed you. That's why you were able to hang on so long under the curse. Your power was able to continually regenerate your mind. I would love to see you put your gifts to use for those in need." She said, her dark eyes glittering in the moonlight.

"I wouldn't know where to start." He said a bit shyly.

"The other healers associated with the registry can help you. Mainly we help our fellow lycanthropes that have been injured one way or another, but we also like to do some other assignments for humans. Think of it as working pro bono. Sick kids and those that can't afford health insurance... That kind of thing. We usually don't let them know, and chalk it up to miracles." Jackie explained. "I know you were a reluctant celebrity, so I thought that the secrecy part might appeal to you."

"If I can help, sure I'll do it. I just didn't think what I did for Glenn was all that special."

"Please, Mark, that's like saying all the care Glenn took of you isn't all that special... Come to think of it, that's probably exactly what he thinks. You be sure to tell him otherwise."

"I'll keep that in mind..." Mark took a deep breath and looked up at the stars. "So I'm a healer huh? Never once in my life did I predict that I'd be healing people and not hurting them."

"Some lycanthropes are just better at it then others. You have that gift. There's also one other thing that the registry wanted me to ask you."

"And that would be?" Mark asked with a wide grin on his face.

During the Super Bowl was the first time they saw it. The 'party' was at Mark's and it was a subdued affair. He was still having a difficult time being around large groups of humans. He'd developed a phobia like reaction around them every once in a while. Sometimes he had to cut a trip into Houston short because of the panic attacks that a phalanx of humanity caused him to have. He declared that cities smelled like dead hope, and had as little to do with them as possible. It was a slow process to try and socialize him again. He had improved much when it came to touch, he wasn't nearly so needy of it now, but there were certain things he just couldn't seem to break out of. His mistrust of humans that weren't Glenn or Trish being the main one.

For this reason, Super Sunday was a relaxed affair in front of Mark's big screen in the lower level of his home. Glenn and Trish had made the trip, and Jackie was there as well with a few of her lower ranking leopards. They all reclined in various places around the room, and were enjoying a few beers and plenty of unhealthy snack food. Between the first and second quarters, when Mark's face appeared on the screen in black and white, everyone in the room got attentive. It would be the first time that anybody had really seen him in a year. Mark also knew that Vince McMahon, a football fan, would be watching when the recorded version of Mark started to speak.

"It's not a disease or a curse... I've been cursed and lycanthropy ain't it." There was a pause, the screen went black save for the outline of predatory yellow eyes, and then Mark's face returned. "I lead as normal a life as possible under the circumstances. I'm a contributing member of society. I pay my taxes. I have work to do. I donate time and funds to charity." There was another screen of eye shine, and then Mark's face reappeared. "My lycanthropy is what caused me to clean up a lot the mess that my life had become. I would have self-destructed if I hadn't been turned. I would be in jail or dead, or very easily something worse then that. It made me take stock of my existence, and re-evaluate my priorities. It made me realize my responsibility to make my life worthwhile to myself and others. This so called disease has actually saved my life."

There was another pause. "I was secretive about it for a long time because I thought it would cause me to loose my job. Which I was correct about, obviously." He smiled a bit at the camera, and there was another pause. "Registration, I believe, is ultimately a good thing. I know that there are many lycanthropes out there opposed to it, and can come up with all sorts of reasons to avoid it... It is degrading for one. I can assure everyone that I personally have been treated with the utmost dignity. I was made to feel relaxed and respected through the entire process. Yes, there are rules you have to obey, but regular humans have laws they have to abide by. When you sit down and read them, you'll find that these rules are based in the most basic of moral principles. Being registered means that you are still a citizen under the law; and hence are subject to its punishments, privileges, and protection.

"The whole program is for lycanthropes, by lycanthropes. It's also for the general public as well. We're willing to state openly who and what we are, if the populace agrees not to go on witch hunts for us. Discrimination against us exists, as it exists in every facet of society. But if you are seen as an animal, then your life is given the same value. We are not drooling beasts. We are not big game. Registration is a way to protect your rights, and not live with the status quo of fear and discrimination. You don't have to hide because you are protected. Wolves and people are similar in many ways. A pack or society is only as strong as its weakest member, and how well that member is supported and protected. Registration ensures that. I know that now." There was a final pause.

"My name is Mark Callaway, and I'm a werewolf. What is seen as the end of life by some was the start of mine. I became a much better excuse for a human being after the fact. I also never want to see another lycanthrope hurt or killed unnecessarily because of fear or ignorance. I want my fellow beings to be better able to understand one another." The spot ended with the Registry's toll free phone number, along with the words: "We're here to help." written in script under it.

It was approximately seven seconds later when the phone started ringing. Mark merely held up his hands, keeping everyone in their seats. His answering machine picked up and echoed through the open concept house. "Hey, this is Mark. If this is Vince, yeah, I'd be pretty pissed off at what I just pulled too. Consider yourself lucky that I didn't pursue legal action. If you still wanna talk, gimme a call after the game. It's my Super Sunday too. Any media leeches that somehow got my number can reach me through any registry office. Friends, well wishers, and supporters, please leave a message and I'll call you back soon. Any detractors can fuck off and eat shit. Thanks very much." beeeeeep

"Mark, we have to talk about this." It was Vince's voice and then the click as he hung up. Mark merely turned the volume up louder on the TV when the phone kept ringing throughout the game. All of their cell phones went off and vibrated on the coffee table. Mark watched the rest of the game with a small smirk on his face. Reluctant celebrity he may be, but stirring the pot every now and again sure was fun. His answering machine was full by the halftime show. He went and wrote down everyone who called, cleared the machine, and let it go to work again with the phone's ringer off.

It was Shane McMahon who called him as the rings and ball caps were being handed out, and that call he took. "Hello?" Mark asked into the receiver.

"Jesus Christ Mark! What the hell did you do?" Shane exclaimed. Mark held the phone away from his ear until he was done being yelled at, and then spoke calmly into it.

"I finally used my recognizable face to my own advantage that your daddy can't make any kind of profit from."

"I know what Hunter did to you."

"Then you know how lucky he is to still have his intestines inside his body."

"Look, I just wanted to tell you that it's a crime what he did. I don't care what anybody else, my family included, thinks."

"Shane, you've got to understand that Hunter barely registers in my universe anymore. I've got my life back, such as it is, and I am content with that. If he ever gets in my way again I'll crush his head like peanut shell. However, if that doesn't happen, I will loose no sleep over it. I just want to live out my life in peace... I'm a very peaceful man these days, and that's the only reason why your brother-in-law is still alive. I'm done with the company. I'm done with the business. I'm done with that life. Give my push to Glenn or Irvine even. Just leave me be."

"Mark, they're already talking about you on CNN. I'm watching a replay of the ad right now. You're the story of the Super Bowl. Like it or not, you're famous again."

"I expect the royalty cheques for the Best of the Undertaker DVD in the mail. Goodbye, Shane. Say hi to Linda for me." Mark hung up then, pleased at getting in such an effective last word.

A few of Mark's friends started calling then. Ones that had been close and some that thought he was dead. The words "I'm fine" and "I missed you too" were said quite often. He cuddled up with Jackie and was on the phone until very late into the night. He spoke to his friend John the longest. They were both Texans and had spent a lot of time together on the road.

"Yeah, the odds were 10 to 1 in the locker room that you were dead."

"Uh-huh and how did you bet?"

"Won enough to pay for that lengthy Super Bowl spot probably."

"I should be glad that you bet I was alive at least."

"You're too stubborn to die... Did Vince call you?"

"Yeah, but I talked to Shane after the game. He says he's on my side."

"Kid says a lot of things." John replied and they both laughed. "So what happened to you? We heard some crazy rumours." Mark sighed, and then figured he had nothing to loose. John would either believe him, or not. So he told his friend the truth, and about how he was still pretty messed up because of it.

"I still have a lot of issues to work out, but I'm getting there... Slowly." Mark said when his sorry tale was over.

"And you're serious about not wanting to stomp Hunter's ass into fine paste?"

"As a heart attack. I'm done with all that bullshit. I can't bring myself to care, because if I did, I'd end up in prison or a mental institution. Glenn's been here ever since I found him, really. I can't thank him enough. We're finally in a space where we don't want to kill each other. I got a really sweet girl in my life. This is about as close as I'll ever get to heaven."

"Hey, we should meet up in Vegas; go play some blackjack or five card stud."

"Sure John. As soon as I can stand the smell of people, that sounds like fun."

"You sayin' I smell?"

"You can't help what you smell like. It's my problem to get control of."

When he and Jackie finally found their way to bed, Jackie moaned as Mark traveled the length of her body with kisses and caresses. "I never thought a wolf would ever make me feel like this." She said at one point.

"Well, I always did consider myself a cat person." He replied and she laughed.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize aren't mine... I just like them.

Chapter 14 - Summer Side of Life

Mark started to settle down a few months after that. By degrees he could tolerate being in the city longer and longer. Houston's rather large werewolf pack gave him some leeway on whether he wanted in or not because of his healer status. If he was generous with his talents, they wouldn't demand his commitment to them, and they recognized his alpha status. For now, Mark chose friendly association, but veered away from full integration. He saw packs as a bit isolationist, and he knew that was the last thing he needed right now. He needed to relearn how to function in human society.

His best therapy came in the form of the healings he was called to perform. He found his role extended to peace keeper as well. When he was called in, a situation often had to be diffused before anything constructive could be accomplished. The healers usually traveled in twos and threes, so the others were glad to hand over that responsibility to a large, capable, alpha such as Mark.

Once a month, he was given special dispensation to go into a hospital within eight hours drive of his home, in clothing that he wouldn't be easily recognized in. A suit and tie often served that purpose, or hospital scrubs, or the overalls of a tradesperson. He would walk into the room he'd been told he was needed in, and one of the hospital nurses would escort any visitors out. Mark would then draw the curtain around the bed, and go to work.

His first 'miracle case' had been a single mom with breast cancer. Her children were all under the age of ten. The woman had come around a bit, and asked what he was doing there. "I'm here to help, ma'am." He said, and laid his hands on her.

Mark would usually leave a bit light-headed, and Jackie or someone else from the registry would have to take him home. However, a large meal and a long sleep was all that he needed to be put to rights. He found that his sleep after a healing was always restful and peaceful. His nightmares had started to fade after his dream time encounter with Glenn, but he still had haunted dreams. Now though, he was getting more and more hours of solid sleep, and his stress level went down because of the positive experience of healing. Everything was starting to become easier for him.

Jackie had become his best friend as well as his lover. His file was technically being handled by someone else because of their personal involvement. Jackie had been enchanted with his looks and charm, with his honesty and humbleness mixed with savior faire bravado. Mark was still smitten with the leopard that shared his bed. He loved her humour and brains. That fact that she was smoking hot just made all the easier to love her. He often found himself smiling like a maniac in her presence, and be damned if he could stop himself. His life was settled, and almost content.

The money the registry paid him, though he didn't really feel right for taking it, would have been enough to support him. The only reason he did was because the other healers did, and he knew they wanted their services to be valued, and never taken for granted. That made sense to him. Still, he would have hated to see his land go to waste, and kept limited herd of Aberdeen Black Angus Cattle, and reintroduced bison to his pasture lands, and sold the meat to specialty buyers only.

His life was often solitary, but far from lonely. Glenn was busy with his career and Trish, but he called at least once a week, and visited when he was home. Mark had also taken to letting other lone lycanthropes use the ranch as a safe haven for the full moon, so long as they didn't harass his livestock. His romance with Jackie progressed slowly and carefully. He had to be sure that he was healthy enough mentally to withstand the pressures that went along with dating a leader of lycanthropes. Jackie's leopards weren't too high on her dating a wolf. There were other alpha males in their group, and they couldn't see why she chose "some white boy mutt" as a lover and partner.

Jackie had chosen him for all the reasons they couldn't see. He had a no overbearing pride. He was compassionate. He wanted for her to be happy, and that was the source of his happiness. Wereleopards, being more casual in their social bonds, had a difficult time with a werewolf's more structured view of social roles. But any tension soon tapered off. Mark was never anything but polite to Jackie's leopards, but he did demand the respect that was due him. He also didn't hesitate to correct any lax in discipline. They learned though, that if they stuck to what Mark asked of them, he was genuinely pleasant, and damn funny to be around.

Mark was soon given the choice of taking 'requests' from the registry. These were people that applied to the registry to ask for a healing. This appealed to Mark's sense of charity. Soon he was flipping through the stack every time he popped into the office, usually to take Jackie out for lunch, or pick her up in the evening. It was lunch on a Tuesday that he found one that ripped his heart wide open. The request was local. The patient was a child burn victim. The effort required to heal him would be extensive. The boy was the same age Glenn had been when their house had burned.

"Has anyone taken this one yet?" He asked, sliding the paper across their table for two at a small bistro. Jackie looked casually down at the paper and photo of the boy.

"It just came in this morning. But I'm not sure if I should let you. It might hit too close to home for you, Mark. That can lead to a sub-par healing." She said, making a valid point.

"Come on Jackie, let me have my neurosis and help this kid out. You never know, how I feel about it might make it all the easier to heal him."

"I really shouldn't bother arguing with you over this one should I?"

"It'll be like Vietnam. No way to win." Mark said, with a smart-ass grin on his face. Jackie sighed loudly.

"Fine, I'll drop you off at the hospital after we're finished here." She said.

"Thank you."

"I'll be there promptly at 4:30 to pick you up, no matter how far along you get."

"Yes ma'am." He replied, smiling up to his eyes.

The burn ward made Mark wonder how Glenn could ever have stood it as a child. The place was sterile and lifeless, the air recycled. It would have been terrifying and alien to a kid. He flashed his registry issued credentials at the nurse's station, and asked where the boy was. This was a request, so he wasn't worried if anybody recognized who he was... Or who he used to be at any rate.

"Oh my, thank you for coming so quickly." The nurse said. She was a younger one that was more

accepting of lycanthropes. "We're actually worried at this point about his survival. He had a lot of smoke inhalation. We all have been so worried about him." He was led to a washing station to sanitize his hands and arms. He was a regular at most of the hospitals in town now, and a familiar sight to the staff, so none of them were put off by his tattoos or size. He was made to wear a mask, and even though he knew he couldn't carry disease or infection, figured it was easier to not argue the point.

The boy was bandaged heavily, and Mark could smell all the medicated ointments used on his scorched skin. He could also smell the boy's burned flesh and hair. He was small, African American, and thin. The request had said his name was Benjamin, and that he lived in a less then economically sound part of the city. Mark gently removed as many of the bandages that he knew wouldn't bleed and tried to hold back tears. "Poor kid" He whispered more then once. The nurse had stayed with him, and was helping him with all too experienced hands.

Mark chose an unburned section of skin on the boy's stomach to put his hands. It was probably saved when the boy curled up to protect his face from the intense heat. He kept his touch as tender as he possibly could, not wanting to cause the boy any more pain then he was already in. Even if he was sedated, Mark didn't want this boy to fear him for any reason.

He sat half way on the bed, and relaxed. It took some time to summon up that pleasure he got when healing because of all of the grief he had lingering from his own experience with fire. His thoughts of Glenn permeated what he was trying to do... And it wasn't until he thought of healing Glenn, and not the scars he'd once had, that Mark made any progress. As soon as he remembered hearing Glenn speak for the first time since they were kids, then he knew he could heal the boy. All he had to do was think of the positive family relationship he had with his brother now, and it came easily.

He thought of seeing Glenn with Trish, and how happy they were together. He thought of Glenn holding him tight in that parking lot when Mark had found him again. The injuries on the boy started to fade, and new healthy skin formed in front of his eyes. He concentrated on the boy's breathing. The nurse had to remove the ventilator mask when the particles trapped in his lungs started to expel through his mouth in a stream of fluid. Blisters popped to reveal new skin underneath, shining and healthy. Swelling in deeply burned flesh abated. Mark didn't know how long he hovered over the boy, letting him have everything he could give him.

It was when the boy's hair started to grow back in that Mark felt a hand on his shoulder. He was exhausted, but he wasn't willing to stop just yet. Another source of power channeled through him, and only then did his nose detect Jackie's presence beside him. Jackie was used to this, often attending healings, but usually not for humans. It was only when the boy's eyes opened that Mark stopped. He removed his hands, warm with the power that had passed through them into the child, and steadied his body to keep from slipping right down to the floor. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, and then took a look around himself.

The boy's entire family was in the room, as was the Japanese doctor, and the Hispanic nurse. "One of these things is not like the other..." Mark sang softly, and then did let his body slide down to the floor.

He hadn't fainted; rather his legs just couldn't see fit to hold him up anymore, figuring they'd done quite enough for the time being. Jackie knelt beside him and he smiled dopily at her. She removed the mask from his face. "And you thought I couldn't do it." He said.

"Baby, I had no doubt in my mind. I just wondered how much it would take out of you. I see I was right on that fact."

"But I did good." Mark drawled confidently, happy in his exhaustion.

"You did amazing, Mark." She said. Jackie, Benjamin's father, and the doctor all helped get Mark into a chair, and the nurse retrieved a glass of water for him. Mark saw the boy's mother holding her child close and crying openly, as were the boy's sisters.

"Thank you" The boy's father said, disbelieving at the scene before him.

"My pleasure, sir." Mark replied, and leaned into Jackie who was just smiling at him down at him. Mark knew that was most likely to avoid smacking him for putting so much of himself into this. Mark drank the water the nurse handed him, and slowly got to his feet. He walked beside Jackie out of the ward, out of the building, and fell asleep in the car on the way home.

Burn victims became a specialty of Mark's. That was not lost on Glenn when he heard about it. Or Trish... Or anyone else who knew him for that matter. He also became much more efficient at trauma and injuries as opposed to illnesses. This is what he most had to deal with when it came to his fellow lycanthropes, and it transferred over to the humans he helped as well. The urgency of an event fostered the need to heal in him. He was often called in on emergency cases, the ugly things that many people can live entire lifetimes without seeing, and be perfectly happy to do so.

He still saw his fair share of cancer patients and the like. He rarely if ever refused his services. Jackie had been right about him. This was his purpose now, and it gave him a lot of satisfaction to see the results of his labours. He knew that his power was a renewable thing, and he wouldn't be selfish with it.

It was a Friday afternoon when the registry called. Mark usually loved Fridays. He would rise, do chores around the house and barn, then indulge himself and spend the day leisurely until evening chores. Then he would get cleaned up and go take Jackie out for supper. This one was no different. Until the phone rang that is. He'd been engrossed in a book about the history of the Salem Witch Trials and seriously considered just not answering.

He was in the shade of his porch, drinking a beer, and enjoying the breeze on his favourite chair... And if by chair he meant hammock. The only reason he did pick up the phone was that the call display on the cordless phone declared "Jackie's Work Ext." He assumed she was calling to make sure he'd made reservations somewhere for that evening's supper... Which he had, and so was confident when he picked up the phone.

"Hello my sex kitten." He declared into the phone and received Jackie's sweet laugh as an answer.

"Hey baby" She replied.

"Reservations are for 7PM." Mark said automatically.

"Great, but this isn't about dinner." She said.

"Supper" He corrected.

"What?" She asked.

"You eat dinner in the middle of the day. You eat supper in the evening."

"Sometimes you are such a redneck. Come and join us in civilization sometime, and I'll introduce you to dinner in the evening, you hick."

"You think it's sexy." He teased in a sing song voice. "Anyways, what could be more important then supper?"

"Oh that's easy, sex is way more important... But there are many things that take precedent in the grand scheme of things." She replied, and Mark laughed a bit.

"I just don't know you at all, do I?" Mark said, feigning innocence. "Who are you, and what have you done with the superficial woman I love?"

"Oh will you stop? This is actually important."

"You mentioned that, though I don't see how if could possibly be more important then food or sex... Or food and sex... Do you have any chocolate sauce at your house?"

"Oh my God... Now I know why they talked me into calling you. Are you always this base and antagonistic to everyone else at the office?" Jackie only sounded mildly mortified.

"Only my hairdresser knows for sure." He said, laughing at his own smart ass comment. Jackie, mercifully, laughed as well.

"Well tell her to do a better job on your highlights next time." She said; knowing Mark would relent if she played along because he'd get bored if he couldn't get a rise out of her.

"Oh, I'm hurt. I really am..."

"Do you want to feign the tears now, or have me make you cry real tears later?" She threatened.

"Only if it involves that chocolate sauce I just mentioned." Mark shot back.

"You're shameless."

"I got all the reason I need to be shameless. That reason is you."

"Fine, you win." She sighed loudly. Mark's creative compliments got her every time, and she couldn't help but indulge him.

"Okay, what do you need?" He asked, letting her get down to business.

"A healing, it's a major one. A pregnant woman and child are not doing well at all. The thing is, it's in New York, but they asked for you personally." She said. Her voice was professional and calm, as it always was when requesting Mark or any other lycanthrope's services.

"Oh, uh, okay." Mark said, more then a little surprised that he would be asked to travel that far.

"We've already got clearance from the local werewolf pack and from the airlines for you to travel." Jackie explained.

"All right, when do you want me to leave?"

"We're leaving on a red eye tonight." She said.

"We?" Mark asked, raising an eyebrow even though she couldn't see him do it.

"Working vacation" Jackie said, and Mark could hear the happy smile she would be wearing through her voice.

"Now there's an idea." Mark said, amused at the prospect.

"Get packed, and I'll meet you for dinner. I have to pack after I get done at the office."

"Sure, I'll see you soon, babe."

Mark packed after he hung up the phone. He pulled out the replacement luggage he'd bought since his old stuff had ended up God knows where. It was a strange activity for him now. He hadn't really traveled since Glenn had brought him home. He liked his home. He had miles and miles of nothing but open space to live and be. Even Jackie, a city leopard from the start was getting to like it out here. Lycanthropes had restricted movements by law, but as territorial creatures weren't much for traveling anyway.

So of course it was strange for him to be packing to leave. He called the man who used to take care of the place when he left on tours and he agreed to discreetly come by and look after the chores. He was a neighbour who was actually sympathetic to Mark's plight, and understood that Mark, who was one of the country's most famous werewolves, was the same guy who'd been his neighbour all along.

The process of packing was even strange for him now, and he had to quickly jot down a list of things that in the past, he would have had two of, and would have just stayed in his bags. A toothbrush, shaving kit, other personal grooming stuff, books for carry-on. Then it was clothes, jeans, t-shirts, dress pants and shirts, and gifts for the local pack, as he would have to make nice with them. He almost wrote 'ring gear' on his list, but then gave his head a shake and got to his task. He also called Glenn, remembering him mentioning a show in New York last time they spoke on the phone.

When Glenn asked whom it was he had to heal, Mark explained that it was often better that he didn't know what he was getting into, and hadn't asked. Glenn had accepted this answer, but gotten quiet after that. "Would you mind if I came with you? I know that you're still having a hard time in cities, and you won't have the ranch to escape to this time." Glenn asked.

"If you've got the time, sure, I'd like that a lot." Mark said softly, as was his way of speaking now. Especially around Glenn.

"Call me when you get there, Mark." Glenn said.

Jackie and Mark met for 'dinner', and she went over the agenda with him. They would get there, proceed to an early meeting with the pack in Manhattan, where Mark would officially seek permission to be there, snag a few scant hours of sleep at the hotel, and then immediately start the healing. "We can technically skip the sleep. I can sleep on the plane if I have to." Mark offered.

"Yeah, not all of us are world travelers and can pass out at will on planes. I need to be alert for this too." She said, and Mark laughed.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Characters you recognize aren't mine. They just won't stop talking in my head.

Chapter 15 - Cold Hands in New York

Mark did manage to sleep on the plane and to Jackie, seemed to be at full energy when he bounded up the stoop of the apartment building where the local pack leaders resided. Once they got inside, Mark got quiet and reserved. His work with other lycanthropes had his manners around them finely tuned. He wasn't hiding his presence in territory that wasn't his, but he wasn't barging in either. Jackie watched the greeting ritual go on without a word exchanged until it was all over with. He greeted the alphas with the cheek rubbing motion that made a lot more sense in wolf form, but they went through the formality anyways.

He greeted ten people in the hallway, but then returned to the mated pair who were the pack's leaders. He offered the gift of decent vintage bottles of wine, a couple of bottles of singe barrel Kentucky bourbon, and a small oil sketch by one of the Group of Seven. The pair smiled at him, and the gifts were accepted. He was accepted, and finally words were exchanged. "Thank you, Mark. I trust we will have no trouble from you?" The female leader asked.

"You have my word, ma'am. I'm just here to fill the request for my services in peace... And have a couple of days away with my girlfriend. I'd like you to meet Jackie Moore, representative of the registry, and the leader of Houston's wereleopards."

They exchanged a formal greeting and all seemed to be well. The alpha male was a bit more on edge with Mark's presence. He was wary, and made no bones about another strong alpha male in his territory. "Why did they call you? We have many healers in our own pack. What makes you so special?" He asked.

"Not sure. I was asked for." Mark said.

"The request came down from the central office, sir." Jackie explained. Mark shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"Eh, who knows? Someone probably just wants to say a washed up has been helped get them out of the hospital." He joked, and the situation diffused a bit when the alpha laughed.

"Has been? Maybe. Washed up? I think not." Jackie said

"How's that, darlin'?" Mark drawled his response, and raised an eyebrow.

"Because, I'm not dating anyone whose washed up." She said, and gave him a determined look.

"Damn, girl. I'm just gonna have to work on that then." Mark said and smiled.

"Yeah that's right." She said, and Mark smiled wide at her. He loved teasing her, and she loved teasing him, it was their favourite sport.

They departed on good, if still somewhat uneasy terms, and went to the hotel. It was the sort Mark had become accustomed to staying in when he used to travel. Jackie was thrilled with it. "The bathroom is bigger then my apartment." She said, and Mark laughed. She yawned, still tired from her trip, so Mark behaved himself and let her sleep when they got into bed.

Mark, who had been relatively at ease being back in New York only started to feel tension when they got the hospital. Glenn had met up with them at the hotel, and Mark started to pick up from him that he might not have been told the entire truth of the situation. It was the wolf's eye, one just picked up on these things.

It started with a scent near the doors of the hospital. It, no several scents, had been much diminished by others. There was an underlying similarity with all of them, and it didn't take long for his precise memory to place them. McMahon's all of them, by blood or marriage... And then he wanted to vomit. It was Jackie and Glenn's presence alone that kept him walking forward, despite the stench getting stronger and stronger in his nose.

The smell of Stephanie McMahon-Helmsly started to mix with blood and fear... And finally with another scent... One that Mark didn't know. It was a scent that was beyond the touch of bad blood and even worse business deals. It was the scent of a new life in danger. Mark had smelled this before with pregnant women he'd worked with. He could only ever describe it as scorched popcorn. It was something fresh and new, and quite possibly ruined. Mark swallowed his rising bile, and followed Glenn and Jackie.

Jackie would know the feedback his sensitive nose was taking, and Glenn would feel the stress building up in him. Jackie took his hand and led him on, closer and closer to the source of his greatest hate. Mark figured that she'd known from the start what he was getting into, but he couldn't protest could he? Someone was in trouble, and needed his help. The McMahon's were the people, save for Hunter of course, who'd given him the opportunity to live (and get away with) the life he'd wanted. He would have a hard time denying what they asked of him. Even if Hunter and Vince had tried to ruin him, kill him... They weren't his main concern. This unborn kid was. Even if it had the misfortune of being Hunter's spawn and Vince's grandchild.

It was a private room that Mark was finally led into. He sneered at the sight in front of him and had to force himself to not just turn on his heel and walk out. Vince and Hunter on one side the bed, Linda, Shane, and his wife on the other. The pregnant Stephanie was on the bed, her belly swollen and the most of the rest of her cut, bruised, and bandaged heavily. "Vince and Hunter leave now." Mark announced rather coldly. Vince looked shocked to see him, and Hunter bristled.

"On whose orders?" Hunter asked. His tone was unafraid and mocking.

"Fine, your wife dies." Mark said and did spin on his heel to leave the room, as he wanted so badly to do.

"Wait!" Both Shane and Linda spoke together. Mark had always felt at ease around these two, and he still trusted them somewhat. He immediately deduced who had made the call to the registry. He couldn't deny their past loyalty and honesty. Linda was the reason he was paid more every time his contract was renewed. Shane was a good kid who'd been diligent in learning the business from his father and old school talents like Mark himself.

Mark took a deep breath and turned back to them. It was Shane who spoke first. They'd paled around a bit before Mark had been exposed as a werewolf, and gone to some UFC events together. Mark had been getting to like the kid, almost despite himself. "Taker, wait." He said.

"Don't call me that. That's not me. That character, that entity is dead, and I say good riddance." Mark growled as he said it. A low wolf growl to accent his frustration with what he'd been led in to.

"Okay, I'm sorry... But Mark, you've got to hang on a minute. I know you got screwed. It was a crime. But this is my sister's life here. We're not close, but she's all I got. And if that's not enough, think of the child whose only chance is you. There's a life in her that deserves to be saved, no matter what its father has done."

Mark tried to leave the room, and he was growling low in his throat. Jackie held his wrist fast, but that couldn't have held him if he really wanted to walk away. No, it was the smell of the child still in the womb that held him. "He's got a point, Mark." Glenn tried to reason. Mark freed himself from Jackie's grasp, and paced the edge of the room.

He could plainly see on the faces of the room's occupants that he was an intimidating sight. Even Hunter was on edge, if not fearful. Mark didn't want to ruin the reputation of lycanthropes and forced himself to calm down. Truth was, he wanted to wolf out, and howl, and snarl, and devour those that offended him. However, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did... So he paced instead. He demanded that Hunter leave again. "I'm not doing shit all with the possibility of this fuck stain here stabbing me in the back." He said when finally stopped pacing, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You should probably leave." Glenn said, trying to be the voice of reason for Hunter.

"Why Taker? Scared of me?" Hunter challenged. Mark leaned over the chair, leaning his weight on it, his nose scant inches from Hunter's.

"Don't call me that. To you, it's sir. I'm not scared of you Hunter. I'm scared of what I'm capable of doing to you."

"I still have the spell, Mark. Heal her or you're eating Kibbles and Bits again." That was the last straw for Mark. He had his hands wrapped around Hunter's neck before anyone could blink, let alone react. It was only Mark's want to see Hunter suffer that saved the man. Mark could have broken his neck, or torn his head from his shoulders, but he chose to choke him slowly.

That was what allowed the time for Glenn to get an arm between the two, a tiny ball of flame balanced over his palm. He threatened Mark with it, and then burned his arm when he refused to be moved. "Ah! Fuck!" Mark yelled and backed off. He released his grasp to reveal the perfect red indents of Mark's hands on Hunter's neck. Hunter keeled over, gasping for breath, his eyes red and moist.

"There now, that's better." Glenn stated. "Mark, you know you don't want to do this. It's not in your nature anymore."

"Could have fooled me." Hunter said hoarsely as he sat up again. Glenn sighed deeply, and then as he turned towards Hunter, balled his right fist and sent it flying and then smashing in to Hunter's left eye. The force of the blow sent Hunter toppling backward and down to the floor, hitting his head on the arm of a chair and the floor for good measure. He didn't move, and then snored softly, apparently out cold. No one in the room moved a muscle... Until Mark started laughing.

Author's notes: More is on the way... I promise. This story is already finished, and I'm just posting the chapters as I can.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize aren't mine... I just like them.

Chapter 16 Rich Man's Spiritual

He sputtered with surprised laughter, and ended up having to lean on a wall to hold him up, caught up completely in his belly laugh. He ended up having to wipe his eyes and force deep breaths into his lungs to calm down. "Glenn, that was fucking great! Oh what I wouldn't give to have that shit on tape."

Mark finally sighed loudly, and looked at Vince, who had wisely kept his mouth shut. Mark knew he had to take control of the situation, or his stress would just mount again. He also knew that if he delayed much longer, all that would be left to do was wait for the orderlies to take the body down to the morgue. So he walked over to the bed with his head up and shoulders back, and in so doing, made the room his domain. He found that taking control meant that his anger and frustration faded away.

"What happened to her?" Mark asked.

"Car crash. A drunk driver hit her. She was just coming home from a doctor's appointment. They air lifted her here." Linda told him. He removed his shirt, and pulled the blankets off of Stephanie. Bare skin was the best for healing, even though a healer with Mark's wealth of power technically didn't need to. He tore the gown from her, and exposed her belly, breasts, and many extensive injuries. Nobody moved when Mark carefully removed some of the dressings, but he was pretty sure he heard someone gasp.

When he leaned down and started licking one of the wounds clean of old blood and any possible infection in them, he was pretty sure it was Linda he heard gagging. He looked up at Vince who was in shock and grinned, well, wolfishly. "What the hell are you doing?!" Vince exclaimed and was about leap up from the chair. Glenn held his shoulders and kept him down.

"Take it easy, Vince. Werewolves only transfer venom when they bite down. It's kind of like how a snake works, only the venom glands are located in and around the first molar behind the eyetooth. There's no worry for Stephanie's humanity. His saliva is essentially an anti-bacterial." Glenn explained. Mark continued to cleanse the wound by licking it and being as sexual about it as possible. He was smiling and taking his time, and every so often flicking his tongue over his lips to clean the excess blood off of them. Glenn sighed loudly and gave his brother a long-suffering look. "You know, some iodine would do the same job, Mark."

Mark pulled his eyes away from Vince and set them on Glenn, who could see that he was starting to feel the pleasure that came with healing. From his reading on the topic, the pleasant feelings encouraged lycanthropes to heal on another, and hence increased their bonds and preserved their species. Mark was still looking at him, but his mouth hovered just above Stephanie's right breast. He flicked his long tongue out and licked her nipple to a hard nub. She was so close to birth that she would have been ready to nurse if it weren't for breast implants. Mark was a bit disappointed that he couldn't drink from her, if only to piss Vince off further of course. "Iodine just wouldn't be the same now would it, Glenn? And she doesn't seem to mind."

"You sick-!" Vince started to shout. Again, Glenn held Vince down.

"Simmer down, Vince. I have no doubt he'll walk out of here if you offend him, and I couldn't stop him if I tried." Glenn said.

"Yep, I will. Besides, I'm not the one who fucked me up this way now am I?" Mark almost wanted his former friend and employer to think the worst of him. He wanted Vince to see how wolf-like he'd become because of what Hunter had done to him. He still hadn't forgiven and he would never forget their attempt to kill him, rather he had chosen discretion. He moved to Stephanie's belly and licked tenderly. The child was alive, he could hear its heartbeat, and smell the life within. He brought his arms up and surrounded Stephanie's belly with them, his body in as much contact with hers as possible. Mark willed up his power and started to let it flow into Stephanie and the child.

He didn't know how long he held himself over her, or much that happened after that. Only that when he came to, Stephanie was completely naked under him, his vision was in black and white from his eyes and face going wolf, and that his fur and claws had emerged from his forearms. He was sweating and short of breath, and his heart was beating like a snare drum in a pipe band. He was also straddling her on the bed with his dick hard in his jeans.

He looked down at her, and her skin was complete and without any trace of injury. Her eyes were open and it was clear on her face that she was terrified of him.

"You have nothing to fear from me." Mark said softly and moved his head up and kissed her forehead tenderly. He moved down and laid his ear on her belly. The child's heartbeat was steady and strong. He kissed her stomach where he knew the baby's head was, and got off the bed.

He swayed on his feet, and would have fallen in a faint this time if Glenn and Jackie hadn't been immediately at his side. They guided him down to the floor, and Glenn shrugged off his jacket to use as a pillow. "Wow, Mark. It's really impressive that you got it all in one session." Glenn told him.

"I'm tired." He whispered. "Is there any water around?" Glenn got him some, and had to hold the cup for him the way he had when Mark had been in the middle of his own healing, but now he had to lap at the water with his wolf's tongue. Mark could feel Stephanie's dried blood on his face and torso. It was sticky and uncomfortable. He wanted it off desperately. He wanted food and sleep and a bottle of Jack Daniels. He wanted sex with Jackie. Most importantly, he wanted the fuck out of there.

He tried to get up, but Jackie and Glenn held him down. He growled again, deep and threatening. Glenn and Jackie immediately dropped their gaze, but held him still. "Take it easy, Mark." Jackie said. "You've really exerted yourself. You've got to rest awhile and get control of yourself before you go anywhere."

"I'm fine." Mark tried to insist.

"You think you'll be okay prancing around the city with furry hands and a wolf's face? That's very discreet." Glenn retorted with a harsh edge in his voice. Mark considered him carefully, and then once again chose discretion. He relaxed and pulled air deeply into his lungs, his body shifting out of gear and into neutral.

"Who taught you to be so sarcastic?" Mark asked.

"A certain evil, witty bastard, Lord of Darkness if I recall correctly. He was kind of a jerk though."

"Yeah, I heard that about him." Mark murmured and the brothers chuckled. Mark smelled and heard Jackie moving away from him. "Where you goin' babe?" He asked.

"To get you some water to clean up with."

"Mmm, that'd be nice." Mark cracked an eye and looked over to the bed. Stephanie and Linda were sharing an embrace and she'd been recovered with blankets. Vince was still in a mild state of shock. Mark thought that was hilarious, and would laugh long and hard about it later when he had the energy to. Vince didn't pull himself together until Jackie returned with a basin of warm water, cloths and towels. A nurse followed her into the room as well. She was nearly brought to tears by Stephanie's miraculous healing. She then saw the exhausted and partially shifted werewolf, and excused herself rather quickly. Not quite sure what to make of him, she voiced the need for a doctor, and left.

That was when Vince had found his voice. "Why, Mark? After what happened, why would you do this?" He was amazed when the wolf's head looked up at him and then made precisely pronounced words.

"It is not by any virtue that I have received this gift, but it would be a crime not to use it." Mark said.

"What can I do to repay you?" He asked softly. Mark sighed, enjoying the washing he was getting from Jackie. He shut his eyes, and didn't bother looking at Vince as he replied.

"Firstly, I want you to make a healthy donation to a charity I'm starting for young, runaway lycanthropes. It will place them in foster packs, where they can be taught and loved, and raised in a healthy environment. I'd also like very much for you to reconsider your no werewolves need apply policy. I'm not asking for in ring work, and you can screen them to make sure they function well with humans, but they do have something to contribute."

"You want your job back?"

"No Vince... What was done to me has altered me permanently. There are certain human behaviours and manners that I can no longer abide by. What Hunter did to me has essentially made me a wolf in human clothing. With very few exceptions that can adapt their behaviour more to wolf, humans bother me... No, I don't want my job back. In fact, I want you to leave me the fuck alone after I walk out that door. Don't call. Don't write. Any of you. I don't want to hear from you. I don't know when or if I can forgive. You tried to rape away my very mind and soul. For the first time since I've been turned, I feel the kind of rage and hate that turns my stomach. I never wanted to feel that kind of hate again... So I'm going to leave this place, and I'm never going to think about you people again if I can help it." That said, Mark's face and arms returned to their human form. Jackie finished washing him, and dried him off slowly. Mark basked in the attention, but sat up when she was done. Glenn handed him his shirt.

All was back to normal, save for Mark's eyes, by the time the doctor arrived. He checked out Stephanie and then shook Mark's hand. "It's amazing what you lycanthropes can do. I'm just in awe of it. Thank you for sharing your gift."

"You're welcome." Mark said. He was leaning on Glenn for support. He also seemed genuinely pleased at the doctor's respectful attitude. He figured it was best to leave on an up note, and stepped over Hunter's still unconscious body as he was helped from the room by Jackie and Glenn. "Make that donation to the Houston Registry office, Vince." He said.

Glenn and Jackie took him back to the hotel and they kept him up long enough to get some food into him. "Thanks for hitting Hunter for me, Glenn." Mark said before Glenn left. Mark was already stripped down to his boxers to sleep and was seated on the edge of the bed.

"Well, it kept you from doing anything stupid."

"You're saying it'd be stupid to kill Hunter?"

"No, I'm saying it'd be stupid for YOU to kill Hunter. If you want him dead as badly as that; at least have the good sense to get a professional contract killer, or even some vampires to do it. That way, there's no messy trail leading back to you." Glenn said, gallows humour shining in his eyes. Mark chuckled back. "Good night, Mark. What you did today was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen."

"Thanks... Hopefully the kid won't be brainwashed into hating me."

"Judging by Vince's star struck reaction, I don't think you should worry."

"'Night, Glenn."

He curled up with Jackie after Glenn closed the door to return to his own room.

"Mark?" Jackie asked softly, not wanting to disturb him if he was already asleep.

"Yes, darlin'?"

"Were you serious about that charity thing?"

"If Vince isn't a cheap fucker, then yeah. I thought it up a while ago. I've been wondering where I could secure initial funding."

"Wow. That's a really great idea."

"I thought so."


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize aren't mine... I just like them.

Chapter 17 Bitter Green

Mark had barely gotten through the door at home when his phone started ringing. He was puzzled when the number came up as "Trish's Cell." Glenn had probably programmed it into the phone, and he assumed that's who would be on the other end of the line when he picked it up. "Hello?"

"M-m-mark? Is that you?" It was Trish's voice, and she was crying.

"Yeah, honey, it's me. What's wrong?"

"Glenn... He's not answering his phone. He didn't come back to the hotel last night. I'm at the airport, and he's not here for our flight. I just missed it."

"Where are you?"

"La Guardia"

"Okay Trish, it's gonna be alright. You're sure he hasn't tried to contact you? A message at your home or with your assistant?"

"I checked. There's nothing on my cell phone. Not even a missed call. I called you thinking he might be there for some reason."

"No, he's not here." Mark said, giving an extra sniff to confirm that Glenn's scent here was indeed old. "Trish, I want you to pursue all the proper legal channels. Call the police. Then call Vince, but don't tell him you called me. I'm going get Paul on the phone. He can start the preternatural end of things, and I'll get him to do a locater spell so we at least know where he's being held if abduction is the case. It's probably somewhere right in the city, so he's probably not far from you."

"Paul will charge you something won't he?"

"That is of no concern to you. I'll handle it. You follow the traditional routes, and I'll start sniffing around. Okay Trish? Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mark." She said, and he heard her blowing her nose.

"Now listen to me. Glenn's got power beyond imagining. He can defend himself from any sort of magical or mental attack far better then I can. He's got all the skills to take care of himself." Mark neglected to add: "If he's awake" To the end of that statement. He was trying to reassure Trish after all. He hung up only after Trish had insisted that she could hold it together to call the police.

Mark took a deep breath, and placed the call to New Orleans. Paul was very calculatedly casual during their conversation. He agreed to do it of course... For a price. Mark was not surprised, but he was annoyed. Paul had claimed 'Kane' was his own flesh and blood. That had never been conclusively proven. Mark and Glenn had agreed to never look into it. "There's a difference in not needing to know, and needing not to know." Glenn had said once, and Mark had understood that sentiment completely.

"What do you want, Paul?" Mark said back in the present moment.

"I have a form of cancer that is progressing quickly. I've been fending it off for years but I'm getting tired of it. I've been to doctors as well, and science has nothing to offer me." He said calmly, as if he were reading a newspaper weather report aloud.

"Fine, I'll heal you." Mark said. "When I find Glenn and after I get him safe, I will immediately come and heal you."

"Agreed" Paul replied.

"Find him, Paul. I can't loose him."

"I know that, Mark. Your pack mentality is probably having a hissy fit at the moment." He said dryly, covering the fact that he actually did care about Glenn.

"Just get it done." Mark said, his frustration audible.

"I will."

Mark paced awhile and debated calling Jackie. He had a sick feeling in his stomach. Something told him that Glenn really was in serious trouble. He once again longed to just be able to reach out with his mind, and find Glenn... He considered just heading to New York, but he couldn't even get a plane ticket without registry approval. Driving himself wouldn't be near fast enough. Also, being discovered where he shouldn't be would leave him open to all sorts of implications. The thought that really got his head on straight was if he didn't tell Jackie where he was going, she'd be left in the same boat that Trish was in.

He hit Jackie's work extension on speed dial. She then asked him everything that Mark had asked Trish after he'd explained the situation. Yes, Trish was following the proper channels to try and find Glenn. Yes, Trish had been thorough on checking around to see if anyone had heard from him. Yes, he had someone on the magic end of it. Yes, he wanted clearance to travel.

"I can do a rush job. Where do you need to go?" She asked.

"You'll get me clearance?" Mark would admit to being surprised at how easily she agreed. Then again, he'd proven himself able to behave on his last excursion.

"I'll get us clearance. I either do that, or you charge off on your own. I'm not naïve... And I don't want to loose you... Believe it or not." She said in her down to earth manner.

"Thanks Jackie... Look, I'm waiting for Paul to call me back. I have him doing a locator spell." Mark had taken the time to explain his turbulent past over pillow talk and lazy Saturday evenings. She'd been compassionate through the whole long, often tragic story. It had made her appreciate Mark's optimism and understand his behaviour even more. She knew how much he had changed.

"Okay, Mark, I'll start the process. Call me back."

"Thank you. I love you."

When his phone rang again a few hours later, Mark pounced on it. It was Paul and he repeated an address two or three times before he said anything, as if coming out of a trance. Mark was at the ready and jotted the information down on paper. Mark just sat and listened to Paul's strained breathing for a few moments, knowing that he wanted to say something. "The situation is serious, Mark." He said softly.

"How serious?"

"Glenn is being held sedated."

"Shit"

"Yes, to say the least. His mind is still quite active though. He knows who's got him and for what purpose."

"I bet I'm not going to like what you're about to tell me." Mark grumbled.

"No, you won't."

"It's Hunter isn't it?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is... And he has some people, who are very good at what they do, hired to raise a demon for the express purpose of sending it after you. He wants to use Glenn as the offering."

"That motherfucker" Mark said with a growl rising in his throat.

"Go get him, Mark. He's... Come a long way... And I'm glad to see it. There are only a few great regrets I have... What I did to him is one of them." Mark knew that this was a confession Paul probably wouldn't have made if he weren't sick. However he also knew that it was genuine. Paul was much more artful about his manipulation and rarely flat out lied about something. If he admitted remorse for what he did to Glenn, it was because he wanted Mark to be that much more likely to come through on his end of the bargain.

Mark made the call to Jackie to tell her their destination: New York, and then New Orleans. They were gone again by the next morning.

Jackie nosed around the address first when they got to New York on a rainy evening. Meanwhile, Mark sat in a rented Chevy Suburban with Trish. His brother's girlfriend was still deeply distressed, but had gotten control of herself. "So what did the police say?" Mark asked.

"He was missing more then twenty four hours, so they filed a missing person's report, but I don't think that they'll be breaking out the manhunt yet."

"And what did Vince say?"

"That I should be careful, and go somewhere safe... Like I should run away with my tail between my legs. I don't fucking think so. No one fucks with my boyfriend." She said, and Mark laughed out loud.

"You're the best darlin'. I wonder what Glenn ever did to deserve you."

"I can't believe you got back here so quickly." She said, sipping at a cup of coffee.

"Time is of the essence. If Glenn's being held unconscious by people who don't know the proper maintenance of a pyrokinetic... Well then the situation could turn very bad very quickly."

"How bad?" She asked.

"Let's just hope that Paul got the address right, and wasn't misdirected. I'd much rather be in ground zero if Glenn goes off."

"Goes off?" Trish raised an eyebrow.

"Glenn's power is like a steam whistle. Pressure... fire... builds up in him over time and then it has to be vented whether he's awake or not. A lot of his scars on his arm weren't from that fire when we were kids he told me. It was from after, before he knew when to blow off steam, so to speak. If the flame is what he generates, then it won't burn him. If it's from another source, then it can... Say, a wall that has already been ablaze for a number of minutes, even if he started it, that can hurt him. The amount of power in him is just incredible... Glenn's destructive potential on a sheer physical scale far out weighs anything I could do." Mark explained.

"So what stops him? He barely even talks about what he can do." Her voice became incredibly sad as she spoke. It was clear to Mark that she wanted Glenn to open up and trust her. Hell, Mark wanted him to open up and trust her.

"The kind of person he is. It's just not in him to harm the innocent or undeserving without being manipulated to do so. Mainly because he can feel the pain of any potential victim because of his telepathy; and he can't dismiss that consequence easily. Be glad that he got the pyrokinesis and not me." Mark said and looked ahead out the windshield of the truck.

"Why? Are you saying you've got that kind of malice in you?"

"I'm saying I don't know. When Taker was a lot more like my alter ego, I did a lot of things I never thought I was capable of. Usually because it amused me at the moment. It even got me to have sex with a werewolf... And the rest is history."

Jackie came back to the truck. "He's close." She said after opening the driver's side door. The neighbourhood was begging for an urban revival project, and they were in amongst some old warehouses. Mark got out of the truck, not wanting to hesitate in any way. Lord knows what Glenn had been subjected to for Hunter's whims.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize aren't mine... I just like them.

Chapter 18 That Same Old Obsession

He inhaled the air deeply, pulling Glenn's scent out of it. It was faint and he couldn't smell any fear or anger to go with it. Paul was right, he must have been sedated. His nose did pick up the faint smell of charred material. Mark wasn't sure on the details, but he knew Glenn had to vent at least twice in twenty-four hours, usually on a hotel balcony or in the shower at an arena. It had been longer then that since Trish had called Mark, and well longer then that since Glenn had been missing.

Jackie led them down an alley and Mark could determine the age of the scent a little better. It had to be at least as old as the night Glenn failed to show up his hotel room. Mark kicked the door in before he could even consider subtlety. Mainly because his nose had found Hunter's scent as well, and knowing that fact was the end of his patience and the breaking point of his temper.

"Mark, calm down." Jackie warned.

"No" Mark said simply and took off his watch and pulled his wallet and keys from his pocket, and handed them to Trish. "Take these so I don't break or loose them. Jackie, protect Trish." His eyes bled to amber and black.

"Mark, you can't hurt Hunter." She tried to reason.

"But I can defend my pack. Even the registry rules say that." Mark reasoned, and a snarl distorted his voice. Then he was gone in a blur of movement to Trish's eyes. She blinked several times, unbelieving.

"Holy shit. How did he do that?" She asked.

"He's on the verge of shifting. Come on, we've got to keep him from going into a rage." Jackie explained, and took Trish's upper arm in her hand.

"Rage?" Trish asked, as they moved forward into the murk of the warehouse.

"I'm not worried about him shifting. I'm worried about him loosing out to his anger. Move it, Trish!" Jackie ordered.

They heard yelling and pounded up an old flight of stairs. Both women were glad to have chosen flat-soled shoes for this. They saw Mark's shredded shirt and discarded jeans. Cresting the stairs, Jackie had to hold Trish back at the sight they came upon.

Glenn was suspended by shackles and chains hanging from the rafters, his toes barely touched the floor as his body hung slack in the centre of a pentagram. The floor seemed to be falling away from underneath him, and impossible fire and smoke rose up through the holes in the second storey floor. The first level had been an empty shell so far as Jackie had been able to detect. There was some serious questionable magick in the works here.

Of even more concern was a wolfed out Mark and the pile of people tossed aside on his path towards Hunter. The people attending were in a scramble to get towards the stairs, and Jackie and Trish had to get well to the side of the stairwell to avoid being trampled. None of them were recognizable to either Jackie or Trish, either by scent or sight. Jackie didn't know the people that Hunter associated himself with, and those that were here, were all hooded to hide their identities. Still, it was best to let them get away. The fewer bodies there were to clean up when this was over with, the better. Mark's half man, half beast form towered over Hunter. He had a massive clawed hand around Hunter's neck, and held him up against the wall. The other hand was poised to strike. His jaws gaped open, and he was letting out a growl so loud it sounded like a roar.

"Mark!" Jackie yelled. "Mark!" It was too late. Mark was beyond reason at this point. In another blur of movement, Mark had his teeth sunk into Hunter's abdomen. Hunter was screaming in pain. Mark made no motion to stop, swallowed the bite he had, and took another.

That's when the whole building started shaking. Flames shot up from beneath Glenn as the floor gave way and opened to a portal to... Lord knows where... A snake like demon slithered up from the depths and wrapped itself around the incapacitated Glenn. The werewolf's attention was drawn away from its intended meal, Hunter was still screaming when Mark dropped him to the floor carelessly. The werewolf covered the space between it and the demon in three gigantic strides. He sunk his teeth fearlessly in just behind the demon's skull. Mark hauled it off Glenn, and started shaking it violently. The demon screeched and contorted at being removed from the circle before consuming its due sacrifice.

Glenn had started to regain lucidity and cried out in pain because of the inferno building up inside of him. That brought the werewolf's attention back to Glenn once more. Flames started emerge from Glenn's skin and he yelled out even louder. Jackie had to redouble her efforts to keep Trish from rushing over to him. Mark's shaggy, clawed hands took firm hold of the demon, and held it next to Glenn's burning skin, his feet scraping away the salt lines of the circle and destroying it. The demon convulsed and screeched again, and Mark tossed it back down into the pit. He then reached up despite the fire that Glenn generated which singed his fur and burnt his skin, and pulled the chains with such a quick jerk that they snapped. Then he guided Glenn gently down on the floor, well away from the portal that was quickly resealing itself.

Glenn's head rolled back, trying to gather his senses, the flames he was in the midst of not abating in the slightest. Mark still hovered over his brother close enough for the heat to melt more of his fur and create a foul stink in the large open space. "Mark! Mark you cocksucking, motherfucking beast! How dare you!" It was Hunter, still gasping in the place he'd been dropped. The lower half of his body ruined... Well, what was left of it anyway; the part that wasn't in Mark's stomach. Mark's expression became indignant, and it was clear that his rage was building up in him again. He went back over to Hunter, snapping his jaws and snarling. He bent over him and took another defiant mouthful of Hunter's flesh. Hunter yelled incoherently, and Mark merely took another bite, the look in his eyes wild.

He would have had his fill too... Had not Glenn softly called his name. "Mark, stop. Please, stop." The werewolf snarled but backed off, tilting his blood soaked face at his brother, asking only with his expression '_Why the fuck should I?'_

"This isn't you Mark, not anymore." Glenn persisted. "Jackie, get Trish out of here safely. Please take care of her. We'll be along shortly." Trish was openly crying at the sight of Glenn engulfed in flames, but not being burned by it. "Go! Run!" He shouted. Jackie needed no more prompting, took Trish's wrist in her hand, and started booking it down the stairs. Mark let himself have one final blow to Hunter, smashing his jaw and face, and effectively shutting him up.

"Mark, I don't want you in jail over this." Glenn said, slowly getting to his knees and then shakily to his feet, the fire from his skin licking the darkness of the old warehouse. "Besides, fire is a much more effective way to dispose of a corpse. Let him suffer." Mark looked at his brother through amber eyes, his copper fur burned clean off in spots. His massive chest heaved in breath wildly, but he looked at Glenn and understood. Despite his beastly appearance, and lack of a complete human thought process, he did understand. He walked away from Hunter without looking back, and got closer to his brother.

The flames rising from Glenn's skin were a pittance compared to what he could do... They formed a kind of dangerous aura around him, and then a space started to form between fire and skin. It got large enough to fit a large werewolf into. Mark steeled himself and stepped through the inferno. He felt and smelled it burning his fur, but soon stopped once he was safely beside Glenn. Mark then bore his weakened brother up into his arms, and started walking towards the exit, in spaces left temporarily untouched by Glenn's inferno.

The fire grew quickly, eating the old warehouse like a snack, but letting the brothers make their way safely down the stairs and towards the door. They heard one final, unintelligible yell from upstairs, and then the sound of something large and heavy falling... Like a cross beam, and then there was silence. Mark held Glenn close to him when they were outside, to warm him from the relative chill of the night. The activity of burning down the building seemed to be enough of a vent for Glenn, and he left any trace of fire in the building, save for Mark's scorched skin and fur.

Back at the parked Suburban, Jackie had the engine running, and the back doors open. Mark crawled into the back, still holding on to Glenn, and pulled the doors shut behind him. Jackie immediately put her foot to the floor, wondering how the hell she was going to get them out of this. Trish had forced herself to be calm, and the girls came up with the plan of going to the hotel, packing up, checking out, and getting the fuck out of Dodge.

Mark and Glenn stayed in the back of the rental, Glenn asleep and Mark's body remaining in its man- wolf phase. His body was running high on the flesh he'd eaten, and was using that energy to repair itself. Mark held Glenn close, still not really on his human train of thought, but knowing to protect the sleeping person beside him. Trish brought clothing for Glenn when they came to the vehicle with their bags at the hotel, and managed to rouse Glenn just enough to help him into them, despite the hindrance of the werewolf sniffing at him.

"Shit, Mark, what is it with you?" Glenn asked in a murmur. The great wolf head rested on Glenn's belly as he sat reclined in the back of the SUV. "I'm alright, Mark. Really I am. But are you okay?" The wolf blinked a few times at him, and then Mark was back in control.

_"Thank you for stopping me."_ He said immediately, his mental voice disoriented and soft. He looked towards where Trish was standing outside of the vehicle, nodding towards her.

"No, she can't hear you. I cut that when you were healed." Glenn whispered.

_"Good... I... Oh God. I was going to eat him wasn't I?"_ Mark asked.

_"You were eating him, actually."_ Glenn answered honestly.

_"Oh fuck. I'm screwed now."_ Mark said, his inner voice was getting nervous.

_"No, Mark you aren't. He won't be recognizable in any way. The blaze will have even burned his teeth to ash. I made sure of that."_ Glenn reassured, and rubbed behind Mark's left ear, where the fur was softest.

"You wanna come up here and sit with your non-charred traveling companions?" Jackie asked Glenn.

"No, I think I'll stay back here with him awhile. That way I can lie down." Glenn said, and dug his hands into remaining copper fur. The women climbed into the front seats, discussing how to deal with the police. They would have to be informed that Glenn had been found alive, if not completely well... And they came up with the story that Mr. Glenn Callaway had a lot of explaining to do after his multiple day bender. Glenn made no protest and just lay beside Mark as they drove through what remained of the night. He still had plenty of sedation in his system and didn't object to a werewolf sized heating blanket.

They slowly started to swap thoughts, and Glenn found himself having to console Mark through the horror of what he'd let himself do and the remorse he now felt. He ran his hands along Mark's bloodied muzzle and face when the werewolf started to tremble.

A silent drama played out in the back of the Suburban, with the women up front all but oblivious. Jackie might have been able to smell Mark's distress, but that could have easily been from the pain that came with the injuries he had sustained. _"Oh fuck! I killed him Glenn! I've never had to kill anyone like that before. I've never lost control like that before. I killed him, and left his kid without a father."_

_"No Mark, I killed him."_ Glenn kept his tone gentle but assured. _"He pushed you Mark. He pushed you farther then most anybody else could bear."_

_"That's just it. He pushed me to the edge, and I went over laughing like a mad man. I enjoyed every second of eating him alive. I can still taste his blood in my mouth, and I want more. It felt so good. My dick was getting hard hearing him scream like that."_ Mark admitted.

_"Well, it couldn't have felt that good if you feel this guilty about it now. The fact remains that you stopped, Mark. At the height of a rage, you stopped and all I had to do was say your name."_ Glenn reasoned.

_"I ignored Jackie when she asked me to stop."_

_"Yes, but you stopped when you felt assured that your pack was safe."_

_"You're my pack?" _Mark sounded so tender at that moment, that Glenn knew that he would have to be careful of this answer. He wasn't sure he knew what he was doing when it came to pack life. Humans could easily be integrated into werewolf packs, and it happened often. Glenn just wasn't sure how to go about it. Then the thought occurred to him that Mark and he had re-established a close family bond once more, and what was a pack if it wasn't a family as well?

_"Yeah, Mark. Brothers, pack, it's all good."_ Glenn said, and in that moment, knew that he meant it.

Mark's reeling thoughts calmed at the idea of pack and the security it brought. He sighed audibly. His breathing and heartbeat slowed. He inhaled the comforting scents of those around him. His muscles relaxed and without any more conversation, he slipped into a deep sleep.

"Mark, baby, you gotta wake up." He blinked his eyes open. He was in his human form again, and covered with a blanket. Jackie leaned over him in the back of the SUV. She kissed his lips and they came up smiling.

"Hey" He said.

"Hey yourself." She said.

"How long have I been asleep?" He asked, his voice rough from sleep.

"Since yesterday night. It's 10PM now."

"Oh, where are we?" Mark asked, testing the air with his nose.

"On our way to Louisiana like you wanted." She said.

"Good" Mark gave an approving nod.

"How are you feeling?" Jackie ran a hand over his chest and smiled gently at him.

"Tired. Kind of fucked up, you know?" He said. Jackie gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You want some clothes?" She finally asked, her smile growing wider.

"Not really, but I suppose I should. Don't want to be scaring the locals with the magnificence of my genitalia." That was when Trish appeared at the open back doors of the Suburban with jeans and a t-shirt in her hands. Mark had tossed off the blanket, and she got an eye full. She blushed, and tried to look away.

"So, um, yeah... naked..." She said softly.

"I prefer tastefully nude, hon. You see something you like?" Mark raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Behave yourself Mark. We've all been through a lot." Jackie warned.

"Oh I'm just teasing." He said, and pulled the t-shirt over his head, and then slipping the jeans on. "Naked, a pleasant and ideal state for a lycanthrope, isn't really that big of a deal. Clothes are more of a formality to avoid scaring human children and offending old ladies... Smells however... Ooooh boy..." Mark gave a low whistle, and put his bare feet on the asphalt. They were staying at a decent, but low profile motel apparently. Mark was okay with that. All he wanted was a bed and some more sleep. Still, he showed his concern for Trish and ran a hand over her cheek. "You know I'm just playing right?"

"Yeah, Mark. I do." She said, obviously more comfortable with him in clothing.

"Though you can show me yourself naked anytime." He said while leering at her.

"Oh shut up." Trish rolled her eyes and laughed. Mark turned back to Jackie.

"Time for bed, darlin'?" He asked, hope in his eyes.

"Yeah baby, come on with me." She took Mark's hand and led him through the door to their room. Mark turned down the bed while Jackie went to the bathroom. He didn't bother to remove the jeans and left the shirt on the floor by the end of the bed. He slipped between the covers and was only awake long enough for him to feel Jackie crawl in beside him. He sighed and kissed the back of her neck. Jackie sighed and rubbed her feet together. They whispered a good night to one another, and fell asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize aren't mine... I just like them.

Chapter 19 - The Circle is Small

Louisiana was hot and humid as usual. Glenn had gotten quiet about being dragged here once again, but he refused to go home either. Mark figured his brother's sensitive mind must know something the rest of them didn't. Mark didn't question it, and concentrated on preparing himself for a healing.

Jackie spent a lot of time on her cell phone, talking with the registry. She also spent a good chunk of time reaming the brothers out for their actions that night. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when the news came that the blaze was attributed to the rainy night, a leaky roof, and faulty, aged wiring. So far, no word of a body being recovered had come their way.

"Look, I've had decades to learn to use my abilities. I use my clairvoyance to find a weak spot in a building and exploit it. I use the flame that comes off of me directly to dispose of anything I don't want found like an incinerator. What happened to his remains was beyond that of what a crematorium does. It will come up as an anomaly in the investigation, nothing more." Glenn explained in a rare verbal moment.

He also spent what little time he did talking on the phone to various parties to assure them that he hadn't ended up at the bottom of the East River wearing cement shoes. He called the NYC Police Department, Vince, his agent, his lawyer and his housekeeping service to make sure they were still lined up to come in at the same time they had been. Vince said nothing to him about Mark, and certainly didn't say anything about Hunter, so Glenn didn't either.

Trish called her mom and went to the length of pretending to be angry with Glenn. Her mom suggested she drop him, but Trish said, "No, there's no way I'm letting him off that easy..."

"I love you, Trish." Glenn said aloud so everyone, including Trish's mom could hear.

"Shut up." Trish said, and had to suppress giggles when Glenn leaned over and kissed her throat.

Only Mark stayed off his phone. He'd been trying to reach Paul, and wasn't getting any word back. His calls and messages went unanswered. "Maybe he found his own way to heal himself." Jackie suggested.

"No, it would have to be particularly bad for him ask Mark's help in the first place. There's something wrong." Glenn said softly.

"Can you feel him?" Mark asked.

"Not as such... But we both know how much I like being around the guy. But his past behaviour can tell me a lot. Paul likes this world, and this life of his. He wouldn't surrender it easily... In fact, he'd use every available resource to him, no matter the origin, in order to keep his life. But he's proud as well. I'm not sure if he'd ever ask anyone other then Mark for help."

"He told me that he'd been to doctors, Glenn." Mark replied.

"Shit... Then something really is wrong." Glenn agreed.

'Really wrong' turned out to be Mark having to kick the back door of Paul's house in. Mark stepped through the door, sniffing around for Paul's most recent scent trail, tracking his location. He was most certainly somewhere in the house, but he wasn't answering when Mark called out for him verbally. He was definitely alive, but Mark couldn't tell much else from this distance.

He bounded up the stairs, which was where his nose told him to go, and not knowing what to feel, really. He felt obligated to help Paul as best as he could. He had given his word that he would help. But he wasn't sure if he felt any glimmerings of familial obligation. Mark didn't exactly treasure the memories of his time spent with Paul, but he refused to feel guilt or anguish over his former actions. If he did, it would have sent him crazy by now.

At the top of the stairs, Mark heard laboured breathing from the bedroom on the southwest corner of the house. He entered the room slowly. The man on the bed was a ghost of his former self. His sickly form was similar in the face to what Mark had looked like when the healers had brought him out of his wolf phase: gaunt and pale. However, there was a gray tone to his skin and a sweet smell that made Mark's stomach start flip-flopping in his belly.

Paul's eyes were closed, and his shallow, rough breathing would be almost imperceptible to average human senses. The sweet smell permeated Mark's nostrils. It was something he wasn't used to. It was the scent of fresh death. The werewolf recognized it on instinct. Paul was beyond even his help. Mark knew that right away. He hadn't made it here in time. Paul's body was full of the cancer that now ate any remaining strength he had. There was no hope of Mark healing this single-handedly. Perhaps if he called in half a dozen more healers, but there was little point... Maybe this was just the man's time to go... And time for the brothers to let go of their often times unwanted mentor.

Mark went over to the bed and took Paul's hand in his own. It was clammy and chilled despite the heat of the un-air-conditioned room. He saw a few blankets on a chair by the window. He grabbed them and put them over Paul as Glenn and the girls walked in. "What are you doing?" Glenn asked. "I thought bare skin was the best for this."

"It's too late." Mark said, with a hint of genuine sorrow in his voice.

"What?" Trish asked.

"There's too much. I can't heal it. All I would be doing is prolonging his pain."

"That's fine." Glenn growled, and turned to leave the room. "Let's go."

"You can go if you want, Glenn. I'm staying. I won't let him die alone and frightened." Glenn turned back and glared at his brother.

"Why? It's not like he did anything to deserve it."

"He gave me your location and sent me to find you on the sacrifice of his own health." Mark offered.

"Well it certainly took him long enough to finally take me into consideration." Glenn said bitterly.

"You are better then what he did to you, Glenn." Mark said. His voice was full of emotion that he was choking back for the sake of being able to express himself coherently.

"Mark, are you high? We're monsters! Genuine fire breathing dragons! And most of it is due to what that sack of shit made us to be!"

"And we are more our monstrosity. We are more then our scars. We have to be. Otherwise we would have killed each other long ago... If we were nothing more then ravaging beasts, these two incredible women wouldn't stand so readily by our sides. They're all the proof I need to show that we've done something right, and it should be plenty enough for you as well." Mark brought the blankets up to Paul's chin. The man's entire body was cold. Paul opened his eyes momentarily and he saw Mark, but he didn't seem to be able to say anything.

"Don't worry, Paul. I got you. You're not alone." Mark whispered, and patted Paul's hand under the blanket. The sick man's eyes closed again. "You don't have to stay Glenn. I won't be offended or angry. I just happen to feel that no one should have to die without basic dignity."

It was Glenn's turn to pace the room of a sick person he was conflicted about.

"He tried to subliminally brainwash you when you wouldn't be his meal ticket anymore. He raised me to hate you with every fiber of my being." Glenn reasoned aloud.

"Which he failed at miserably. He told me he regretted what he did to you. It certainly doesn't make it any better, but it does imply that he was little more then a fool to try in the first place. So we got fucked around by life a little... It happens to a lot of people." Mark said softly.

"That man killed our parents." Glenn's eyes were bright with anger and hate.

"Yet another foolish mistake. He's a small man, living a small life, and in a hundred years, none of this will matter... As much as I hate to say that, you know it's true. What will matter though is how we treated people. That kind of karma echoes through eternity."

Glenn suddenly picked up an empty antique vase and sent it careening into the hardwood floor to vent his anger. The Tiffany vase was shattered in a glazed explosion. "I'm going for a walk." Glenn said, this time really making for the door. Trish caught his arm on the way past and that seem to calm him immediately.

"You're coming back, right?" She asked. He leaned down and brushed her lips softly with his.

"Yes, Trish. I'll always come back to you. Wild horses and all that..." Speaking to her, he was careful to keep his voice calm. He left the room, not slamming the door as he'd originally intended. He did book it down the stairs and out the door though. The day greeted him with a 'fry an egg on the sidewalk' kind of heat.

He just wandered the streets, trying to make a game of avoiding the more tourist-oriented areas of the French Quarter. This turned out to be an annoying game, and since the heat had banished most of the tourists to air-conditioned activities, he didn't have to worry about too many people on the street, and soon gave it up. He had no destination in particular. He just wanted to keep his feet moving, trying to outpace his runaway thoughts.

Here and there people were out trying to enjoy themselves. He stopped for a beer on a patio to escape the direct sunlight for a time. He watched the world go by, and sipped at the amber liquid in the sweating glass. Soon he noticed the happy cries of children behind him. He turned his chair and saw a clown, balloons, and several others in brightly coloured costumes. One of the clowns carried a sign that promoted a circus, complete with show times and location, and another was making balloon animals for the kids.

Glenn had his eyes focused on a woman who had a small terrier doing back flips and the reactions it got from the kids. He didn't notice when a gray haired woman approached the patio. He only really noticed her when she reached over the wrought iron fence that separated bar from street, and touched his arm. He was expecting a fan. He had to deal with those now and again. Not that he minded much anymore, and he even found it flattering on some level.

"Glenn?" The woman asked. "Mark's brother, right?" It took Glenn a moment to place her.

"Roma" He replied. "Yes, I'm Glenn."

"It's so good to see you again. How is Mark?"

"Did you hear about his recovery and advocacy of the registry?"

"Very vaguely. I don't watch TV... Something about a commercial?"

"Yes, we got the curse lifted, and the registry had a number of other lycanthropes come in to heal him of its after effects and restore his power to him. He has complete control again." Glenn said, and took another sip from his glass.

"And how is life for him? As a registered lycanthrope I mean?" She was skeptical. Glenn could see that.

"He's okay I think. He's had so much recovering from what was done to him; that I don't know if he's had time to resent any of the rules the registry has set down for him. For a while he was having panic attacks whenever he went into a city, but he's over that it seems. He's home on the ranch most of the time now, working the land and helping heal others, lycanthropes and humans both. Being the healer he is has really helped him learn to socialize with people again. He's a very gifted healer."

"I'm relieved. I thought he would feel trapped."

"Well, he's got a whole lot of acreage to run around on. He's doing okay, really. You should come back with me and visit him."

"To Texas? That's a long drive."

"Oh, no... He's here in the city. An old family acquaintance is not well." Glenn explained.

"And Mark's here to heal him?" Roma asked.

"Well he was, but now he figures he can't be that effective, so we're just here to see him off so to speak. I'm sure that Mark would love to see you though." He said.

"I don't want to intrude on someone's deathbed." Roma said, raising an eyebrow.

"This guy is so far gone, I'm sure he won't even know you're there. Come on, it'd mean the world to Mark." Glenn replied.

"All right then... I'd love to see him again."

"Good. Well, I'm here on foot, so if you have a vehicle we can take that." Glenn finished his beer, and laid a ten-dollar bill under the glass.

Roma excused herself from the performers and made sure that they all had rides back to their camp. Glenn was quiet still, only recognizing a face or two from the night Mark had found him.

He was trying not to think about Paul. So he had some unresolved issues... Who wouldn't? And now the man who'd tortured him for years on end was receiving Mark's compassion... Glenn hated that word. He'd lived without it for so long as a means of self-defense. Compassion... Something that Paul certainly didn't deserve. But who ever 'deserved' compassion anyway? One gave compassion like one gave love: without sense or reason. Paul treating him like a piece of shit for years was an event completely unrelated to the man's current state. He followed Roma to the truck she would use to pull her trailer usually, and got inside.

Glenn knew Mark was right. It would be bad karma to let anyone die alone and without dignity. If his tender years spent in a funeral home hadn't taught him that, what had he learned? Paul might have been a prick and seriously fucked in the head, but he couldn't hurt Glenn anymore. Glenn knew that. Glenn's ability to get on with his life was proof that he was stronger then what Paul had done to him. Now though, he wondered if he was strong enough to let go of his trauma and leave it in the past where it belonged.

He had built his life from the ground up with Mark's help. He had a job he enjoyed. He had a smart, beautiful woman who loved him dearly. He had his brother. It was a family, of sorts. He'd shaken the 900lb gorilla Paul had set on his back... And in a life that was so often unfair, what more could he ask for? Holding on to this hate would just send him nuts again, so why do it?

Glenn directed Roma to the house. The door was unlocked, and they went inside. Trish and Jackie were in the kitchen. He waved to them, but led Roma past them and up the stairs. He could hear 'the girls' follow behind them.

Glenn poked his head in the bedroom. Mark was beside the bed with a relatively fresh beer, and just being present for the dying man. "Mark, can you come out here a minute? I got someone who wants to see you." Mark's eyes narrowed at his brother, and he tested the air for scents. His jaw dropped a bit and he set his beer bottle on the bedside table. He smiled as he stood up, patting Paul's hand as he did so. It was warmer then before, but still unresponsive. At least he wasn't cold. There were many reasons Paul had chosen Louisiana, and utter hatred of the cold was one of them.

The scent got stronger as he moved towards the door. Tobacco, sage, and wood smoke equaled Roma. Glenn must have run into her somewhere. Mark had wanted to contact her, but wasn't sure how... And he had wanted to be mentally stable enough to be around people. He was now, of course, but he had been busy.

He stepped through the door of the room and smiled ear to ear as he closed it behind him. "Roma" He said softly and warmly. "How are you?" She didn't quite know what to make of him at first. She had no idea he'd be so tall. He was also a lot better looking then the few media photos she'd seen had made him out to be. Perhaps it was that big infectious smile he was sporting. She found herself smiling back.

"Hello, Mark. I've been well. A little worried for you, but other then that..." She trailed off when Mark spontaneously hugged her.

"Thank you Roma... I've wanted to be able to say that to you for so long. I'd be dead if it weren't for you."

"Mark..." She tried to protest.

"Just say 'you're welcome'." He said, his eyes sparkling with how pleased he was.

"You're welcome, Mark." She said, laughing a bit. Mark released her from his embrace, still smiling, almost bouncing with happiness.

"There's so much I wanted to say to you." He said, looking thoughtful, but his eyes were still shining.

"Go ahead, Mark." Glenn said. "I'll watch Paul for awhile." Mark cocked his head to the side a bit.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Of course I am. I just needed to sort through some things in my head. I'm fine now. Though I am going to finish that beer you started in there." Glenn replied as he opened the door and stepped inside, closing it gently behind him. Mark trusted Glenn to tell the truth, and to be alone with Paul. Glenn was a deeply intelligent man and would have sorted out any untimely ill will towards Paul. If he hadn't, he'd still be out wandering around.

Content with this, he led Roma, Trish, and Jackie back down the stairs to the kitchen. He told Roma his story in detail; of how he came to be cursed and how he made it to her camp. He answered questions about his condition. He asked further detailed questions about her that he hadn't been able to ask. He asked about the other performers in the circus. He asked about the little girl, Lilly, who he'd come be so affectionate of. She was doing well by all accounts, a forming acrobat like her mentor Roma. He was pleased to hear that everyone else he asked about seemed to be fairing well, normal stresses of life aside of course.

They talked long into the afternoon. It was cathartic for Mark to be able to communicate with someone he hadn't been able to because of what the curse had done to him. Jackie stuck close to him, smiling at seeing how easy going and relaxed he was. He was his brilliant, funny self. Jackie got to see from the outside for once, just how easily he made people fall in love with him and his charm.

"I'm so glad you spoke up to Glenn. I was wondering what had become of you."

"Same old, same old, Mark. Hard work, hard miles." She said matter of factly, and Mark grinned. He'd known that life well. When the day's shadows grew long, Roma said she had to be getting back, and Mark only reluctantly let her go. She kissed his cheek at the door, and he hugged her again. He made sure she had his address and phone number, and a guaranteed off-season camp for 'the lot of them.' He just had to build a shed large enough to house Asian elephants. "We'll see, Mark."

He watched her go from the front door, waving when she pulled the truck out into traffic. He then went back to the back door of the house, putting a temporary fix on the lock he'd all but destroyed in his effort to force their way in. The deadbolt had been unused and survived, and that would have to do for now.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize aren't mine... I just like them.

Chapter 20 - Too Late for Prayin'

Mark gathered up some food and more beer and went back up the bedroom. The sweet smell was even more noticeable now, but he'd grown used to it, and it didn't nauseate him anymore.

Glenn was seated with his elbows perched on the edge of the bed. Mark could smell the salt of the tears that streamed down Glenn's face, but there was no sound that accompanied them. "What's wrong?" Mark whispered.

"I want to stop hating him, and I can't. I hate his mistakes and I hate his failure to correct them. I hate his carelessness with other people. I hate the way he looked at me like I was nothing during all those years he had me stashed. I hate how the memory of him coming down those basement stairs still intimidates me. I hate the way he treated you. I hate him for trying to make my life's purpose into hating you. I hate how easily he made me hate you. I hate that he made everyone else believe that I was sick, and hideous and deficient in some way... You know Mark; you were the first person to believe in me since mom and dad died. All I did was hate and want to hurt you, and you still thought I was worth the effort. Even when you were still submerged in the darkness... You still thought it was worth your time." Glenn wiped his cheeks with his hands, but made no attempt to hide his tears.

"Because I had more then a little knowledge of what Paul was really like." Mark replied. "He was so manipulative. He had me convinced that you were dead. I suppose that it wasn't hard in the beginning... I mean, I still don't know all what you went through, but I could tell that you had more raw power then he did. Possibly more then I ever did as well. I knew you could escape him if you wanted and walk away like I did. Look, you've got all the reason in the world to hate him, Glenn. Just don't let that hate rule or destroy you. It will destroy you if you let it control you. My hatred nearly destroyed me."

"How do I do that without having you sink your teeth into me?"

"Well it helps that you're more forgiving and certainly smarter then I ever was... Lycanthropy was chemotherapy without hair loss for me. You, on the other hand, can go downstairs to that remarkable lady of yours, and love her for the rest of your existence. Maybe have a couple of kids and love them too... It might not get rid of the hate inside you, but it will help it become more distant from your current life... I fought through my hate by getting to know my brother a little better, and opening up to maybe let people know and care for me in return. You might find a more efficient way, but that's the best way I know how to do it."

Mark was now standing beside Glenn, and resting a hand on his brother's shoulder. His werewolf nature could make that simple gesture demonstrate all the love and understanding Mark had for Glenn. It was a thing of true comfort. Glenn could feel that now. He knew the werewolf was rubbing off on his telepathic mind. Glenn wasn't bothered by it in the slightest. He didn't mind at all when Mark knelt down beside the chair he was seated in and the brothers leaned on each other.

Looking at Paul lying in the bed, it was plain to see his breathing was erratic at best now. He gasped in air four to six times a minute. His eyes were opened wide, starring away from Glenn and Mark. His jaw moved every now and again, and an unintelligible mumble was let out. There were other presences in the room, and it was obvious Paul was communicating with them. "Who's he talking to?" Mark asked.

"Uh, various spirits he knows... Ones that have helped him in the past, ones that he's hurt...And..." Glenn trailed off. "And mom... She's faint, but she's here. Like she doesn't want to be you know?" Glenn started to tremble a bit.

"Can you see her?" Mark asked.

"A – A bit... It's more her voice. Here," Glenn pulled Mark into his mind. A gentle voice flooded Mark's ears mid-sentence.

"-and it's only because my sons have risen above that I can forgive what you've put them through. Be content with that."

Mark managed to make out the barest trace of his mother's finely featured face. Though there was some weight to her presence, a volume and depth. If they'd been closer, Mark would have tried to reach out and touch her. Mark being pulled into Glenn's mind meant that they could feel each other's pain over the past, and their shy happiness that the souls of their parents seemed to live on and be at relative peace.

Her presence then circulated through the room and over to Mark and Glenn. Her face became more visible. She smiled at them. They just looked back at her, and then she started to fade away, back to whatever reward she'd gone to. Her smile had said it all to them though. She loved her children. She missed them. She was proud of them.

Other spirits and souls appeared here and there, but Glenn stopped focusing on them. The ghosts that haunted Paul were the man's own business. He gently let go of Mark's mind, but Mark stayed right where he was. The light of day faded and he and Mark were still leaning on each other. Glenn wondered if Mark's kneecaps had started to feel like cheese yet. He didn't ask because Mark made no indication he was uncomfortable. Neither of them could be sure how long they stayed that way as the night progressed... Their living wake of Paul might have been going on for hours.

Paul's breathing became even more sporadic. So much so that there was no way his brain could be getting enough oxygen to feel anything, let alone function properly. Mark could smell the man's body starting to shut down. Mark put an arm around Glenn, wanting comfort as much as offering it. The smell reached a zenith for Mark. The room started to get crowded with pure power as Paul's started to exit from his body.

Glenn felt it as a pressure building up in his ears. He could feel the hairs on the back of Mark's bare arm stand up. Paul's eyes seemed to lock on them, but he probably wasn't seeing anything anymore. Mark had his free hand resting on Paul's, letting the man know he wasn't alone.

Then the very room seemed to exhale. Glenn would swear he heard a rush of air scream past his ears. He and Mark held absolutely still, trying to not attract any attention from any wayward, lingering presences in the room. It was only when Glenn was sure that they were alone in the room with the body that they moved.

Both of them stood up, Mark willing his stiff legs to work again. He remained close to the bed, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out two antique silver dollars and after closing Paul's eyes, placed the coins on top of them.

"We should wash him, get him cleaned up and get the girls to start making the appropriate calls." Mark suggested. Glenn nodded slowly, but nothing more. His eyes were locked on what was now the corpse of the man who had tormented him. Mark left the room quietly, and went down the stairs. In the kitchen, Jackie and Trish had opened up a bottle of wine, and were playing cards.

"He's gone isn't he?" Trish asked upon seeing Mark in the doorway. He nodded to answer her, and rummaged around in the lower cupboards of the kitchen. He eventually found a large basin, and started to fill it with warm water. He also looked around for clean linens, and found them in a closet next to the downstairs washroom.

"Are you two okay?" Jackie asked him.

"Yeah, darlin'. We'll be alright. We're just going to wash him and find some clothes for him. You can come up if you want, but I'm not sure if you're really high on hanging around a corpse." Mark said.

"Should I call someone to pick up the body? The police or a funeral home?" She asked. Typical alpha, thinking of what needed to get done.

"Yeah, both I guess. Hey, did either of you see any candles around here?"

"I think I saw some in the living room." Trish offered. She ended up following Mark up the stairs while Jackie flipped through the phone book. They entered the bedroom, and found Glenn with his hand on Paul's. He had his eyes closed, and he looked very calm, almost serene. Trish set down the candles she carried and went over to Glenn and put her hands on his shoulders. "You okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, I think so." Glenn murmured in response.

Mark had set the steaming basin down, and held three of the candles up to Glenn's free hand. Glenn waved his palm over the top of them, and the wicks sparked to life. Mark set one on either side table and one on the chest at the end of the bed. He went to the closet and pulled out one of Paul's suits, a white shirt, and red tie. "I guess we can just send this along with whoever comes to pick up the body." He said to no one in particular.

Mark then set about what Trish saw as the rather gruesome task of washing the body. Glenn soon followed suit, helping his brother with steady hands. The scene somehow went from ghoulish to tender suddenly for Trish. Mark and Glenn had been wronged by Paul in the past, but they still cared enough about him to take care of him when he could no longer do it for himself. She assumed that on some level, it was the final "fuck you" they could give to the man; to show him that they refused to be beaten by or afraid of him.

"Oh, I'll be back in a minute." Mark said softly and left the room. He returned shortly with a large white linen sheet and a rather exotic looking bottle. Its dark blue glass didn't allow Trish or Glenn to simply see what it contained until Mark opened it. Glenn continued to wash the cooling flesh, and Mark poured what turned out to be anointing oil on to his hands, and worked it into the freshly cleaned skin on Paul's forehead, hands and feet.

Trish snuck out and returned with a bottle of whisky for the three of them. She had never spent any real extended time around the dead. She could use a good stiff drink at this point.

She came back to find Mark speaking in a language she didn't recognize. She might have guessed it to be Gaelic, but she didn't know. Whatever it was, it was melodic and almost hypnotizing. It appeared to be part poem, part song and part prayer. She poured them all a drink, which Mark accepted with a genuine smile, but continued his recitation.

When the police arrived with the coroner and funeral home attendant in tow, both bleary eyed men accepted a drink on behalf of the deceased as repayment for their sleep being disturbed. The brothers agreed to an autopsy; well Glenn did, as he was the one who technically had power of attorney. It had been Mark in the past, but after Mark's last split from Paul, Paul had made it final. Glenn hadn't really ever had to deal with anything like this, so Mark walked him through the paperwork as best he could, explaining what and when he could. The funeral home attendant noted how knowledgeable Mark was. "Should be... We spent our childhood in a funeral home." Mark answered. "Oh, and if you don't mind, I think Glenn and I should be the one to carry Paul out of the house. Jackie, Trish, do you have that suit packed up?" The girls pointed to a garment bag that lay over the back of a chair.

"I have no problem with that." The coroner said. "It saves our backs." Mark and Glenn shifted the body over to the gurney, and Mark was careful to make sure the coins stayed over Paul's eyes. Glenn hadn't said much of anything yet, but he did this task honestly and without any protest.

Outside, a few of the neighbourhood's residents had gathered by the fence and the curious lingered. Glenn glared at them as they carried the body, now mostly covered with the white linen sheet, past them.

"Oh it is him... The sorcerer." Someone said while the back of the hearse was opened for them. Glenn glowered at the source. It was some young vampire, too stupid to recognize the threat Mark and Glenn were. He was the kind of vampire wannabe that somehow had managed to get a proper vampire drunk or something, and turn him.

"Shut up" Glenn's voice had the tone that meant there was no room for argument with him. The vamp apparently valued his pathetic little afterlife, and did so. They slid the gurney in, and Mark touched Paul one last time.

"Goodnight, Paul." He said softly, and then walked back towards the house steadily, without looking back. He realized the late hour, and he was tired. Glenn had fallen into step beside him. Mark, despite his exhaustion made the search to find a copy of Paul's will and he hoped the name of the lawyer they'd have to deal with would be on the document.

He found it in the library sometime around dawn when everyone else had gone to sleep. It was written in typical legal-ease, but from what Mark's lack of sleep hazed mind could decipher, the contents of the library and all objects relating to Paul's "business" would go to Mark for "safe keeping" and "proper distribution amongst the worthy". The rest of the estate would go to Glenn to do with as he wished. Mark wondered if burning this house down was an option that the lawyer would accept. He knew Glenn would love to do that.

While neither Mark nor Glenn wanted a service, there was some demand from people the three men had known mutually. There were also requests from those that Paul had gotten to know through the dark arts and occult activities. No family presented itself at the non-denominational service that the brothers chose, save for themselves of course.

Mark had to fight to keep his temper when the McMahon's showed up. With Mark's permission of course, Glenn went into his brother's mind and cut him off from his anger temporarily, to avoid Mark going into a rage and shifting. Mark then greeted Vince and company politely, but with no other emotion. Hunter was obviously absent from the occasion and nothing was said about it.

A few poems were read by people who actually seemed to like the guy. Some of the people in the wrestling business had a few kind things to say. Mark and Glenn remained silent. Mark even had to be encouraged to remove his sunglasses. It was a short, subdued affair, and most everyone figured that it was how Paul would have wanted it. The brothers had also chosen cremation and spreading the ashes on the warm Gulf of Mexico, so when the service was over, it was over. The funeral home would take care of the trip out on to the Gulf.

Mark's temporary anger mind wipe lasted through Vince approaching him after it was done while people were milling around. Vince handed him a thick 8"x10" envelope.

"I know you don't want me here, Mark. But I wanted to give you this personally."

"And this is?"

"Your official severance from the company, and the money that comes with that. It's also all the information for the funding for the charity you wanted to start... Along with limited access to an account, to be spent as you see fit to get things under way. As long as the Lycanthrope Registry approves of course." Vince's voice was genuine and lacking any of the gruffness of the character he played on TV. Glenn had sidled up next to Mark incase the situation turned ugly and Glenn's grip on Mark's anger slipped. Glenn wasn't sure that he could hold back a werewolf's shift, let alone a rage, but he had the best chance of anyone in the room of talking Mark out of it. "It's a good cause, Mark. It deserves to be supported."

"Thanks, Vince." Mark said, his voice was calm, and he took the envelope from him.

"I know that there's a rift between us that will never be bridged... But I am sorry if that means anything to you. I didn't want this to go as far as it did."

Linda stepped in then to ease the tension. Mark exchanged small talk with her. He formally introduced Jackie to them as "The most incredible woman in the universe." Jackie rolled her eyes and flashed him her brilliant smile. That formality over, Mark wanted the hell out of there. His skin crawled at the mere thought of what he'd done to Hunter, and he didn't want his behaviour to become suspicious. He wasn't an angel or morally superior to anyone else. He would do everything in his power to get away with it.

Where Paul was concerned, he'd done what was required of him. He wanted to clear things up with the lawyer, and then get home. Get to some place where he might not be leaving bodies in his wake.

They made their graceful exit, stage right, and went back to the house. Mark spent the rest of the day flirting with Jackie, and reinforcing their bond through touch. Jackie once again spent a lot of time one the phone. She called a few of her case files. She called the office, and finally several of her own leopards to assure them she would be home very soon. After the last week or so, like Mark, she was ready to go home.

"I'm sorry that this got so fucked up." Mark said as they reclined in a tangle of arms and legs on the couch in the living room.

"Mark, I knew your situation when I got involved with you. You were honest from the start and I love that about you. You're so good to me, and getting to know you is one of the most self-rewarding experiences in my life. Until further notice, I'm with you. Come hell or high water. You got that?"

"Yes ma'am." He said.

"Good. I'm glad we got that sorted out." She said, and gave him a self-satisfied smile.


	21. Chapter 21 End

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize aren't mine... I just like them.

Chapter 21 - Back Here on Earth

Mark was poking through Paul's library the next day, arranging for what was to come with him and what could be shipped later. He packed up a few archaic texts, books of shadows, some individual documents of historical interest, and anything of excessive value, whether it was magickal, monetary, historical, or sentimental. He stumbled across the black leather bound volume entitled: Le Loup-Garou. The werewolf en Français. This was the book that Paul had used to relieve him of his curse. This was an important text for him personally, and for all lycanthropes. He would read, translate, and copy it for the registry's use, depending on the contents.

As he flipped through the musty pages, a couple of folded pieces of paper fell out. They were held together with a wax seal and read, A: M ... De: P. Or, what Mark automatically read as, To: Mark ... From: Paul. He set down the book in with the books that were traveling with him, and opened the letter. He was greeted with a sequence of numbers. Whatever it was, it was written in cipher, and would have to wait until he got home to translate it. The numbers corresponded with to the pages, paragraphs, lines, and sometimes individual words or letters of any of four books that they'd agreed upon to use for secret correspondence. It was amazing how easily a spell could fall into the wrong hands. Letters to Mark used four different books then the letters back to Paul did. It was all very excessive Mark supposed, but it had worked.

After that, he couldn't keep his mind off of the ciphered letter. What couldn't Paul tell him? Mark had no control over that kind of thing anymore. It wouldn't be prudent to tell Mark anything of that nature really. He didn't have the mind blocks to avoid it falling into the wrong hands anymore. He turned over many theories as he sorted the contents of the library and supplies that were of no use to him anymore. It was frustrating him more then anything. His curious nature and his precise mind were getting the better of him.

He had a pretty rough idea that whatever was contained in the letter could probably lead to more trouble then it was worth. Still it intrigued him. He said his farewells to Glenn and Trish, and returned to Houston with Jackie, thinking about it the whole long way.

He was mildly obsessed with it by the time he got there. So much so that he dropped Jackie off at her home, and then went directly to the bank to get at his safe deposit box. The box contained many of his important documents, deeds, stocks, et cetera. Some of the contents were artifacts that were too volatile to just leave lying around the house, talismans and that sort of thing. There were also a few pieces of his grandmother's jewelry that he was given after the fire. They'd been held in a safe in the house and had survived. Including a sapphire engagement ring, a matching necklace and earrings... He picked the ring up and grinned at it. Maybe he'd give it to Jackie some day. Maybe he'd mention them to Glenn and see if he wanted to give them to Trish. Mark figured that he himself would never be the marrying sort. There was also a large quantity of cash... Just in case... One never knew what tomorrow would bring.

Under all this was a gym bag that held eight well-thumbed books. Their covers and spines were worn. He couldn't find where Paul had kept his copies, but he knew that they would be well hidden, and probably nowhere on the man's property. These unassuming books would have belonged at a yard sale, and in fact, that's where at least two of them had come from. The only one that looked to have any importance was a copy of The Pelican Shakespeare... And even that one looked like a middle-aged whore. All the beauty was worn away. Smudged and kind of dirty, bulging in spots, warped in others... The most diplomatic way to put it would be to say that it had character. Then again, most of the middle-aged whores Mark had spoken to had character. At the very least they had a good story or two. So did Shakespeare. It was a fitting description.

Back at home; he had to force himself to pick up the phone when Jackie called to see that he was settled. He could hear her leopards in the background; obviously welcoming their alpha home, and she explained that she had a lot of work to catch up on. They agreed to meet at the ranch for the upcoming full moon. That gave Mark four days... "So, you're quiet, what are you up to?" Jackie asked.

"Just sorting through the stuff I brought home with me." Mark said, flipping to the second act of The Tempest in the battered copy of The Complete Works. "I'm finding appropriate spots for everything."

"Such as?" She genuinely seemed to be interested.

"One is an early partial draft of The Declaration of Independence. Point form notes on the founding of a nation. That's rather impressive. I think I'll donate it to the Smithsonian if they'll have it." He wasn't exactly lying. Such a document did exist, was in his possession, and had come with him in his carry on from Louisiana in an airtight case. But at the moment, Mark couldn't give a flying fuck about it. He was only interested in Paul's words from beyond the grave. It would probably prove an ultimately fruitless exercise... But Mark's interest was piqued and held by the neatly written numbers on the fine Italian cardstock.

Two days with no sleep and it became clear what Paul was trying to say. Three days with no sleep and he had it all. Mark was at a loss for a course of action. The information Paul left was Earth shattering... For Mark anyways. It could completely turn his world inside out, and it was damn tempting.

Paul, like the twisted over achiever he was, had taken Mark's venom and found not only the cause, but a cure for lycanthropy. Mark had gone directly to the bathroom as soon as he had the word 'cure' and thrown up violently. Still, his fascination held him and he recovered and continued to translate.

Paul's words explained that he knew he was dying and that this was the inheritance he left for Mark. He would give Mark the means to regain the former prowess with dark magick he'd once commanded. Mark could be the Lord of Darkness again... And it scared Mark a bit... Simply because some corner of his soul wanted it. Many moons ago he'd desired nothing else. All he wanted was to get thoroughly lost in his own power and reckless abandon. He'd loved what he had been doing. His power had gotten him off better then any piece of ass. He had believed he was immortal and untouchable.

That was until the night he thought it might be fun to fuck around with a werewolf just to see what would happen. Well, he'd sure gotten an education, school of hard knocks style. The trial by fire entrance into lycanthropy had made him a prudent, if sometimes overly cautious, werewolf.

He'd been held captive by the bitch beta that had turned him for the first few days. He'd been bitten and had shifted all in one night, mostly owing to his already preternatural constitution. As a first rate sorcerer before that, he'd changed shape before; but nothing was like the trauma and pain the uncontrolled metamorphosis into beast created. Soon though, when he started to overcome the initial shock, the bitch had started to try and push him around. Neither the Lord of Darkness or plain old Mark Callaway was having any of that. He discovered his natural alpha status as he'd torn the bitch's throat out and effectively emancipated himself.

He still had blood on his muzzle when he dropped on to Glenn's hotel room balcony. He was fevered and delirious when Glenn, who was at the time completely mute and terribly introverted, had found him. Glenn's clairvoyance, which was much more rudimentary back then because of lack of use, had been the only way Glenn recognized his brother.

Helping Mark get back on a human train of thought taught Glenn a lot about using his mental abilities very quickly. Up until then, they'd seemed only a burden. He got to relive his own horror in his dreams, and then had to see that of others when he was awake. From that point on though, he learned to filter the thoughts of others. The need came when he couldn't stand to hear Mark's thoughts and complaints about his situation anymore.

But Mark had adapted eventually. He accepted his change. Sitting over the translated letter, he thought long and hard about what he'd become. Not being a lycanthrope meant freedom of movement. It meant not being bound to ancient and antiquated rules of body language and behaviour around other lycanthropes. It meant not having to worry about where he was going to be on a full moon. It meant being independent again... Of everyone... Of everything... Just him and his nerve against the world.

Of course, it also meant never truly trusting anyone. It meant never really being able to love anyone. It meant distance and isolation from the world, and the very earth beneath his feet. It meant being mistrusted if not outright hated and feared. It meant hating. It meant letting hate and malice guide every aspect of life...

He was tired of hate. It had aged him somewhat, he knew. It had eaten away at the edges of his life. Not as prominent as in the past, but always there, lurking, waiting for him...

When Jackie came over the day of the full moon, which she usually did because the registry offices were closed one these days, she knew he was distracted and distant. It was obvious Mark hadn't slept since they'd left Louisiana. He functioned well enough but he wasn't overly eager to do much of anything. She made them supper while Mark went over the first of the boxes of Paul's books and effects that had arrived that day. He grumbled and murmured to himself often as he started to make headway, stationed in the library, a bottle of beer perched on the corner of his desk.

Then a scent caught his nose. It was the smell of beef cooking. His own beef raised on this ranch. His mouth started to water a bit. It was nice to have someone cook for him every now and again. It was nice have someone around just to care whether he was alive or dead. That had never really been the case before he was turned werewolf. Not since his childhood had so many people had an interest in whether he was still breathing.

He thought of Jackie... Of her sweet kisses and curves. He reminded himself of her brains and wit, of her compassion and love for him. He realized how much he'd come to rely on her and took joy at the mere fleeting thought of her. He also realized just how little the thought of reliance on others bothered him. What was being able to grab a last minute red-eye flight to NYC if there was no one to come home to? His mind was made up.

He set whatever volume he had in his hand down almost carelessly on the desk. He picked up his beer bottle, and walked without looking back down to the kitchen. When he got there, Jackie was standing over the stove, testing a sauce for their main course. He set the beer on the counter and waited until she set the spoon she was using down, and then pounced. He turned her just so and swept her off her feet and up into his arms. He gave her his best searing kiss until they were both on the verge of breathlessness.

"I love you." He said when the came up for air. His voice was calm and assured.

"I love you too... What brought this on? What's been eating at you?" She asked. Her deeply intelligent brown eyes were sparkling with curiosity. Mark sighed and set her on her feet. This was his lover, and she deserved the truth from him.

"Before I tell you anything, I want you to know how much I love you and how happy you make me. I'd never really been happy in my adult life until you came along. And should you wish it, I'll never leave your side."

"Okay, that's sweet, but what's going on Mark?" Direct and to the point... He loved that about her.

"As part of my 'inheritance' from Paul, he gave me the recipe if you will, for the cause of and cure for lycanthropy."

"What?!" She asked, pulling away from him.

"He was a very intelligent human being, Jackie. It doesn't surprise me that he found it. What surprises me is that he didn't appear to sell it to anybody."

"A cure? How can there be a cure?" She was getting angry now.

"Simple, the right elements put into the proper sequence and Voila."

"You're thinking about it aren't you? I can't believe that you'd throw away all you've gained away like that! You got your brother back, you have an amazing gift to heal, you... you've got me... Don't I mean anything to you?" Her shoulders were back, here head was held high, and even though Mark was well larger then her, he knew not to tease her in this state. He took a deep breath, and was perfectly serious as he spoke again.

"Jackie, you mean everything to me. And correction: I thought about it and I'm done now. Please understand that I pretty much brainwashed myself in the past, to believe that my power was the only thing in life worth living for. It's taken a long damn time to free myself of that... I want to spend the rest of my life as happy as you've made me. That's all that I want. I can't see it happening any other way then staying with you as I am." He said, his eyes looking hopeful and sad all that the same time.

He then pulled the letter and translation out of his pocket, and held it to the flame on his gas powered stove to light it. He held it over the stainless steel sink as long as possible, tilting every which way in order to insure that the elements of the cure burned first and completely. Mark felt that in that action, his life was completely his own. He had no snare around him back to his former self. He was free, and he couldn't be happier about it.

After supper, but before any other lycanthropes arrived to use his grounds for the full moon; he charmed Jackie into making love in his garden. He wasn't self-conscience or worried about the wolf taking over a little. It all just felt good to Jackie. His inner turmoil and lack of sleep had the words of the cure jumbled and half-remembered at best in his mind. The Lord of Darkness was now only a memory, having been eaten up by the Big Bad Wolf. It was a fitting end for him.

-Fin-

Sources:

Carefree Highway - Words and Music by Gordon Lightfoot (opening quote)

Planet of the Apes - Finally! An excuse to use 'damn dirty ape' in a piece of writing!

Hamlet - That Shakespeare fella

Tempest - " " "

Richard III - " " "

T.E. Lawrence - (Mark's dream quote)

Deadwood - television series on HBO

Wingfield's Progress - play written by Dan Needles

Dr. Johnson - (Glenn's Beast quote)


End file.
